The Silver Veil
by Jan Lee
Summary: NOVEL. Things are never as they seem. The group gets separated in the middle of a battle, and so Eric and Diana must look for the Silver Veil in order to save their friends. The tale twists facts, feelings, and decisions. ExD, some HxS.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dungeons and Dragons.**

**A/N:** Alright, avid readers, here's my first crack at writing a D&D fic. I love the concept of an Eric/Diana pairing, so this'll be mostly about them. It'll probably have some angstiness (is that a word?) and a lot of fighting because that's what I love. I want you to read this and then TELL me if this is working. If NOT, then communicate ways to improve it, and I'll take it into consideration. Otherwise, I present to you:

**The Silver Veil**

**I.**

"I think this is where we run away screaming!" Eric shouted with his body already turned toward the nearest exit. A green glowing staff held by an irate female with muscles bigger than his stopped him from fleeing.

"Hold it, scaredy-shield. We're not done yet," she said forcefully. She fixed Eric with a Medusa's glare.

"So we stay and get splattered by Mr. Swing-Happy Knight. _That's_ on my to-do list," he replied, as sarcastic as usual, and earned a smart rap on the forehead. A rattling explosion had them turning to the rest of the group.

"Bobby! Hit the columns!" Hank shouted over the hum of his energy arrows.

"Oh, that's a great idea," Eric called from his spot, as Diana bounded from cover to attack the menacing figure on the platform. Bobby gleefully pummeled the stone column nearest him. It took the ten year-old two swings to fully disintegrate the column.

Almost immediately, the ceiling began crumbling. The knight lifted his sword to zap Bobby, but Hank stopped that from happening with an arrow; however, the knight's shot went wild and struck Hank with a powerful charge to his broad chest. The Ranger crashed into a second column and dazedly slumped to the floor. Diana peppered the large, armored figure with hits from her javelin to give Hank time to recover.

"Sheila, the helm! Put it on the statue!" Hank commanded over the rumbling of rock. To the side, Presto 'twiddled' his fingers over his magic hat. His face was pale and anxious in the dim glow of magic.

"When I count to five, give me something to keep us alive! One…two," Presto started counting, attention engaged on the hat. He didn't see a bolt of energy sing toward him. Eric plunged from cover, shield raised.

"_Five_! FIVE!" he shouted hysterically, just barely covering the young magician in enough time to save him from becoming crispy.

"Threefourfive!" Presto finished in a squeak. Slowly the hat glowed brighter. At this point, the ceiling was no long crumbling, but was dropping stone-sized bits and pieces on the Dungeon Master's pupils. The evil knight roared in rage, and the five saw Sheila appear, finally, and place the helm on the statue.

"Everyone, up to the statue, NOW!" Hank shouted, already halfway up the steps. He continued shooting arrows to give everyone else cover, and soon the Young Ones were gathered around the statue and helm. Presto's hat continued glowing, the magic taking longer than usual to work. The knight was close enough now to swing his sword at them.

A bright light exploded in the dim chamber. At the last minute, Eric saw Diana knocked off the platform and take a nasty fall down the stone steps. She landed, sprawled limply, and almost at the same time, the knight turned and brought down his sword again. Eric dove instinctively to cover Diana with his shield, flew like Superman down the stairs, and put himself between her and instant death. He'd landed on her just as the light washed over them. Eric watched, powerless, as Hank's stalwart profile disappeared, a knowing look passing between them, and the only thing he knew for sure was that Diana was safely caught underneath him. He was relieved as darkness blanketed his vision.

Vague thoughts tugged at the corner of his mind. He remembered:

_Light…sound._

Was this a dream? Did he smell coconuts and…_sniffsniff_…lime? His mind flitted to Hawaii, the last time he'd been on vacation with his folks. He was a spoiled, single child, taken everywhere so as not to be lost track of. They were probably worried sick and had hired the best private investigators in the States.

_Home_.

Where was that?

_Not this godforsaken Realm._

Maybe, a fluttering hope whispered, you _are_ home.

_I don't want to know._

A brief movement underneath him scattered his thoughts.

"Roll off, Mr. Roboto. Your metal self weighs a ton," Diana groaned. The Cavalier had trapped her to the ground; she'd seen the sword ready to cleave her, and she'd acknowledged that he'd saved her tail yet again. But his lax form was pressing the air out of her lungs, and she was too shaken up to shove him off herself.

And yet, Diana couldn't help the safe feeling she had. He was so close, cool and warm at the same time, smelling of metal and earth, his breathing a soft whisper in her ear. His cheek brushed hers, and she stilled like a frightened animal until he clanked over on his back away from her.

With his oppressive weight elsewhere, she sat up to breathe the moist, fresh air into her crushed lungs. She took a moment to get a grip. A steady glance around revealed a large rolling field with a blanket of blue-green grass with wild flower patchwork. She climbed to her feet, using her javelin as a crutch, to stare into the distance. It continued as far as the eye could see in all directions. How typical.

"If I spread out my cloak, this would be a perfect picnic spot," Eric mentioned. "You wouldn't happen to have any food stored in that excuse for an outfit, would you?"

His manner irritated her. Here they were, God knows where, and he has to make a lousy joke about her outfit. As much as she wanted, this was not the time to start a verbal altercation. It was fine when they were all together just bullshitting, but this was life or death. She needed his help and cooperation, and she hoped he would give it willingly because she would beat it out of him otherwise. Diana sighed, collecting the last shreds of her patience.

"First things first," she said, ignoring Eric's banter completely. "We should choose a campsite and set up before dark." Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Eric make a show of searching around. She knew what he was going to say.

"Here's as good a place as any," he said. Frankly, he was sore as hell from a steep and harrowing climb up the side of a mountain not an hour ago. His muscles were already locked up.

"Fine. Let's look for some stones and try and get a fire going. We'll have to keep watch, just in case," she replied, thinking that it was unlikely that anything was roaming a plain at this point, but why leave it to chance. She put her javelin away. Eric's eyebrow quirked---he always got a thrill out of seeing her slip the miniaturized staff into its secret hiding place.

She turned suddenly and caught his look.

"What?" she asked defensively. Eric shrugged.

"You had a bug on you," he answered, lifting his hand in a careless wave. "Hopefully nothing poisonous."

"Oh,_really_?" Diana smirked and mashed her palm on Eric's forehead, purposely on the same spot she'd rapped earlier with her staff.

"Hey!" Eric said, startled by her momentary contact.

"Got it," she exulted, wiping her hand on her fur. "Now. Look for rocks."

"Yes, my Queen," answered Eric in false admiration and bowed mockingly. He rubbed the tender spot on his forehead absently as he watched her shuffle around, examining the ground for stones.

As they searched, Eric kept up a monologue of complaints and remarks. How did he have the energy to whine so much? Her energy was drained just from listening to him. On more than one occasion she had her mind made up to snap at him, but hearing his voice helped her concentrate on stopping the worry and anxiety from spreading further from its place in the pit of her stomach. She wouldn't jeopardize that just yet.

Eric was wondering just how tough Diana was…he'd seen her flop down those stairs like a rag doll, and yet she was moving with ease, as if it never happened. He wanted to know if she'd been injured, but thought it best if he didn't ask. When _he_ moved, however, he felt like an old man, and knew for a fact that he was probably covered in roiling purple marks.

He kept bitching and moaning, waiting for her to retaliate, to say something to shut him up and put him in his place, but she didn't. She kept ignoring him, and Eric had a feeling that he knew what was wrong. It was the same reason he was keeping up a line of sarcastic remarks about their situation.

Eventually they found enough rocks to place into a circle and some dry weeds and grass, where Eric had Diana laughing when he shrieked at the sight of a small snake, to make a decent fire. Food, on the other hand, was not as easy to find before the night descended on the Cavalier and the Acrobat. The pair had to pull their belt buckles tighter and try to relax on an empty stomach.

"Where do think the others are?" Diana asked as Eric sat beside her. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them.

"I don't know," he answered her, keeping his eyes on the fire. "For that matter, where are _we_?"

"You are exactly where you need to be," a wizened voice told them, causing them both to start. The Dungeon Master had appeared in the fire. He stepped out to stand in front of them.

"Have any useful riddles for us, Your Shortness?" Eric quipped when his heart settled in his chest. Diana quieted him with a glare.

"Shut up and let 'im talk," she snapped as she leaned forward. "Do you know where the others are, Dungeon Master?"

"They are safe, for now," he replied serenely. He only smiled gently when Eric groaned.

"Oh, brother! Lemme guess. If we don't find them, they'll be lost forever, right?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Inwardly, Diana responded in exactly the same manner; however, she continued looking at Dungeon Master intently.

"Yes, Cavalier. There is only one way they can leave the place where they are trapped." Here, Dungeon Master created a blue sphere to show Eric and Diana what he was talking about. Inside the blue sphere a silvery, folded piece of cloth appeared on a stone pedestal.

"This is the Silver Veil. You must travel southwards and find the Pool of Reflections. From there, the Silver Veil will be in the place underneath that which shows what is above. Once you have the Silver Veil, you will be able to save your friends," Dungeon Master explained sagely. The sphere disappeared, and he folded his hands into his red robes. Diana knew the next part.

"But what do you mean, it'll be underneath that which shows what is above?" Eric asked, confused as usual. His face scrunched in frustration when he found he was talking to the fire. "_How_ does he _do_ that?"

"At least we have a plan," Diana said, yawning and rubbing her arms at the same time. The temperature had cooled several degrees since the suns had set.

"Yeah, a plan for disaster," the Cavalier muttered, as he shrugged off his cloak and offered it to Diana. "I'll take first watch."

"Eric…" she trailed off, puzzled, and unsure of how to respond to his kindness.

"You'd think I'd let my Queen freeze off her cute little rear?" he asked with a smile, and then grinned when Diana snatched it from him.

"Stuff it," she retorted, as she swaddled herself in red cloth. Then, quietly, shyly, she said, "Thanks, Eric."

"No problem." He stretched out his long legs and stared intently into the fire. He'd lied when he said it had been no problem. It _was_ a problem…a _big_ problem. When had he ever offered his cloak to her before? When had he ever willingly _volunteered_ to do something _first_? Eric hated being the nice guy…it wasn't his style---it was Hank's. Being nice was stupid and got you nowhere. Eric liked to think of himself as anti-nice, and besides, he _loved_ spreading his pessimism around. But with all the others gone and only one person relying on him, a person that, for some reason, he admired, he couldn't help it. He promised himself that this attitude of his would only last until they were back with the group, then all bets were off.

A soft murmur from Diana drew his eyes over to her sleeping form. She was extremely beautiful in repose with the fire dancing over her strong features. Her lips shimmered in the light, and Eric couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss her. His mind lingered on the thought…the _pleasure._

Scowling, he returned his attention to the fire. They were friends, nothing more. Besides, she wasn't even his type. Didn't they argue _all the time_? Didn't she think he was irresponsible, selfish, snobby, and sarcastic? Wasn't she athletic and smart and brave, which was everything he wasn't? It was a pointless waste of energy to dwell on even the possibility. They were opposites. Just…opposite.

Something in his mind changed his train of thought immediately. For all the time he'd spent in danger, or _going_ into danger, he'd developed an early warning system, sort of like a tornado siren blaring at the back of his head. Someone was watching him and maybe it just wasn't one person. _Or thing_, a voice said anxiously. As carefully as he could, he shifted closer to Diana. He gently placed a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't wake up with a startled noise.

"Pssst," he hissed lowly. His heart was thudding noisily in his chest, and he was surprised that it didn't thunder against his breastplate. "_Psssst._"

"Hmm?" she groaned, coming around slightly.

"Diana," Eric whispered as quietly as he could. He could hardly hear himself over the terror screaming in his ears. "There's som-"

Eric was hit on the back of the head and was immediately rendered unconscious. Before he slumped over into the fire, two human-like hands caught him. Diana stirred, rolled over, and fell back into a deep sleep. She was gently placed in a stretcher, as Eric was carried over a broad, furry shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The fire was put out, and no trace of Eric or Diana remained there the next morning.

**A/N:** So what do you think? Next chapter: Eric's obnoxious behavior comes in handy, and a little bit of self-gratifying romance occurs.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I think my fingers are going to fall off. Also, I nearly died laughing when I thought of this chapter. I'm not going to bore you with details, but I do humbly request that you tell me what you think. I present to you:

**The Silver Veil**

**II.**

When he woke up, he only knew a few things for sure:

Diana was missing.

He was stiff, sore, and had a massive headache. No. Make that a migraine.

His armor, cape, and shield had been stripped from him; in their place, he wore limp, formless grey clothes that looked like they belonged on an intern in a hospital.

The cell he was in had light coming from the ceiling, was fifteen paces square, had a wooden slat for a bed, and the usual impenetrable cell door. Two guards were stationed at the end of the corridor when Eric strained his neck and eyes to peer through the bars on the door.

His first and foremost concern was Diana and making sure she was alive and unharmed. He was alive, so it was a good guess that she was too. For some reason, he had to know for sure. Eric knew he couldn't just ask to see her, but what to do?

A ludicrous plan formed loosely, coming together with tangles of panic and sheer will. It was founded on the basis that all creatures could be annoyed and irritated. It was lucky Eric was an annoying and irritating young man. He also happened to be very obnoxious.

As soon as his headache died down, he would conduct his plan. The cocky smirk never left his face. _Enjoy your silence, guards, 'cause it's gonna get a whole lot louder._

_Some time later…_

"OHHHHH! FIFTY-FIVE THOUSAND, ONE-HUNDRED AND TWO BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, FIFTY-FIVE THOUSAND, ONE-HUNDRED AND TWO BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL! TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, FIFTY-FIVE THOUSAND, ONE-HUNDRED AND ONE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL!" He'd started at one hundred thousand, it being the first absurdly high number that popped in his head, and it had been probably several hours since then. His voice, after yelling and hollering constantly for months, was still going strong. He'd sing himself hoarse.

_Some more time later…_

"OHHHHH! THIRTY-THREE THOUSAND AND SIXTY BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, THIRTY-THREE THOUSAND AND SIXTY BOTTLES OF BEER! TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, THIRTY-THREE THOUSAND AND FIFTY-NINE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL!" He stood right at the cell door, shouting purposely in the direction of the guards. They'd been shifting uncomfortably for the last few hours of Eric's rendition of the popular drinking song. He knew they were breaking.

_At bottle number 11,782…_

"How long is he going to keep up that racket?" asked one guard to the other, using the hisses and yeows their language demanded. "It's been _hours_."

"I don't know, but I've just about had it. He's giving me a headache the size of Tiamet."

"_Seriously_. Maybe we ought to just…knock him out or something," the first one suggested. He was about to go dragon-shit on that pale, furless piece of meat.

"Or something's right," the second sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "We can't, or De'Riha'll have our hides as rugs."

"We could, like, spike his food," mentioned the first guard. He seemed fetched with this idea.

"Or," the other one interrupted, "we could ask him to shut up."

"Can we thrash him?" There was a subsequent knuckle cracking.

"Want some nusetlah with that whine?" the other asked, shaking his tail in irritation. "No, we can't harm him. You know the rules."

"Yeah, yeah."

_At bottle number 11,779_…

Eric was in middle of singing about bottle 11,779 when the guards down the hall moved towards him. He continued bellowing, just to show he wasn't intimidated. When they passed through the light, Eric noticed that they were humanoid and very furry. _Wookies again?_ Eric thought, as he watched them move closer. But their fur was shorter and striped like tabby cats. And in fact, they _were_ very much like cats.

One had faded brown and orange fur and was more rotund; he (or it) had a green hood over his head with his ears poking out from holes in the top. A leather belt girded his waist, complete with a sword and several pouches. His feet, or paws, Eric saw, were bare. The second was smaller and obviously younger, with orange on orange fur. He wore a black vest and donned the same gear as the older one, but he wore shiny black boots. Both of the cat-beings held staves that were complete with spear-hook things. Their eyes were large, reflective, and eerie.

As Eric hit bottle 11,777, he stocked up some ammunition to sling at his captors. He would have to have a joke about Puss in Boots in there somewhere. The two guards paused at his cell door. They stared at him. He stared back, looking straight into the hooded one's eyes, and continued singing at the top of his lungs. If Bobby had been there, the young Barbarian would be peeing his fur from laughing so hard.

"Ahem," the hooded one coughed politely, "pardon me."

Eric abruptly stopped. The silence clamored around their ears as if it didn't want to be forgotten.

"Yes?" he asked, as if he was not at all surprised that the overgrown cat-man was speaking his language. He favored the cats with a snobby look down his nose.

"Would you please stop that singing?" asked the hooded cat. The Cavalier snorted and crossed his arms.

"The only way you're going to get any peace and quiet around here, fur-face," he replied wolfishly, "is if I get to see Diana."

Then Eric took another mighty breath and resumed his bellowing, starting again on 11,777. He winked at Puss in Boots, causing the other to hiss and spit with anger. A claw raked the wooden door, no doubt leaving thick, angry scores. Eric didn't even pause as they left. And not to go back to their posts; no, they _left_ left.

The Cavalier continued singing as uproariously as possible in the hopes that his voice carried through the corridors and followed the cats wherever they walked.

Before they came back, Eric was on bottle 11,600. They didn't say anything, only unlocked his cell door and grabbed him roughly by the arms and hauled him out. Eric sputtered as he tried to gain his footing. It was Puss in Boots that was roughhousing him and keeping him from his feet.

"Hey! I _can_ walk, you know," he pointed out. Then, just because he couldn't resist, "Furball."

"RAAAWR!" roared Puss in Boots, slamming Eric into the cold, slimy wall of the corridor. "_Can't we skin this hairless rodent_ _NOW_?" The sound of the cat's voice reverberated further than Eric's ever could, and could have quailed Eric right there, if his plan hadn't worked. But Eric had other problems. Ten of them, in fact, that were as sharp as diamonds, sinking into Eric's shoulders and neck where Puss in Boots was holding him. Eric's heart was whumping against his rib cage, threatening to beat out of his chest. The hooded one snarled.

"NO! _Do NOT shed his blood!_" The grip tightened around his throat, and Eric knew it was a warning, then reluctant release. Delicately filed nails traced his jugular, catching on the sensitive skin there. Eric swallowed reflexively and winched as his shoulder was relinquished. His tentative hand explored the area and discovered blood and tenderness.

"I'll hold the prisoner," the hooded one commanded. Eric was jerked into position, nearly dislocating his good shoulder, and was stiffly guided forward. The Cavalier held his tongue, squirreling away quips about kitty litter, fur balls, and clawing posts.

As far as Eric could tell, they were in an underground area, much the same as the village of bogbeasts near the River that Rains Upside Down. The only difference was that this was a grand city in an enormous cavern. Stone columns carved out of joined stalagmites and stalactites upheld what looked like a stone ceiling. The homes that the cat-beings lived in were domed and looked very smooth. The streets were built of stone and curved like snakes to a great palace at the center of the city. The palace was raised above any other building in this area and was lit glowingly from above. It seemed that light was conducted through the earth up top to filter down into the city below.

As Eric was gazing open-mouthed at the city, more cat-beings crowded at the street edge to get a good look at Eric. If he hadn't been so overwhelmed with the city, he would have felt like a circus animal on display. His guards seemed to have pranced him all around the damn city, and by the time the three beings reached the palace, Eric was on his last leg, slumping in on himself warily.

They were admitted into the palace. Eric watched the floor pass under his feet; they went through several doors, rooms, more doors, up some stairs, and into a final room. This room was largish, well lit, and draped with all sorts of curtains. Pillows had been piled on top of fancy-schmancy rugs, and Eric heard running water off to the side.

The grating of stone-on-stone brought his attention to left-handed wall. His two guards shoved him to his knees, and he thankfully rested there.

Two beautiful creatures entered the room, and the sight of both of them stunned Eric. One was draped in white and in the shimmering stones Eric had noticed decorated the cavern. Her fur was a beautiful crème, and her eyes a luxurious green. The second sent his blood pressure through the roof. She wore a long dress, ruby-red, with conspicuous amounts of cloth missing from the stomach and back of the dress. Her brown eyes flashed with impatience.

"I shall leave you two for an hour," the crème cat purred and waved away Eric's two guards. As soon as the room was vacated, Diana leapt into Eric's arms joyfully, her throat too thick for words. She'd never been so happy to see the Cavalier as she was now. The terrible things that ran through her head up until this moment had been consistently worse and worse. Her relief had overridden her common sense and any derisive feeling she had toward him.

As he clasped Diana tightly, Eric didn't know why, but the impulse took him, and he spun, her dress flowing like a flower around them. Diana laughed, sending Eric soaring. He forgot about everything else, even his weakened state.

"I can't believe they brought you here," Diana said, burying her face in his chest. He was here, a little pale, a little bloody, but alive and smelling like a damp basement. Her voice was muffled when she continued. "How'd you do it?"

Eric smirked and stepped away. Holding up one of her arms, he rotated her slowly and whistled through his teeth like a construction worker.

"When I heard how you were dressed, Acrobat, I couldn't resist," he joked, to cover the fact that he was examining her for injuries or marks. She seemed fine, but her muscular, slender back was totally exposed. He was feeling heady and shaky from the sight of it. Without thinking, almost like he was satisfying some subconscious habit, he ran his knuckle down her spine. She shivered deliciously.

"Oh," she murmured, not sure what had just happened that caused butterflies in her stomach. Her heart tripped, and a tiny, errant voice whispered _more_. Before she could level her system, Eric's shakiness worsened into dizziness, and the room spun away from him. Vaguely he reached out, but toppled to the ground before Diana could steady him.

Moments later, Eric found himself comfortably resting in Diana's lap. She stroked his face and hair tenderly, her worry lining her face aggressively. It was blissful.

"Still faint of heart, I see," she said, attempting to stem the sudden freezing fear coursing through her veins. The Cavalier's arrogant smirk was watered down, but there nonetheless and heartened her.

"I did it on purpose," he replied waspishly, face regaining some of its lost color. "But more importantly…what's been happening?" Eric still felt lightheaded, but he had to find out what Diana knew in order to make some sort of plan. Additionally, he didn't like the worry lines on her face, and her hands were crazing him.

"These creatures are known as Elgatos. The Elgato queen was the one who brought me here, and her name is De'Riha. Eric," Diana said, frowning down on him, "she thinks I'm a queen, too, because her minions overheard all that junk you said before."

"And that's a _bad_ thing?" Eric asked, shifting his head to get a better look at her. If Diana was considered a queen, they could easily come up with an excuse to leave and hightail it out of here. Diana continued frowning, her eyes clouded with anxiety, and Eric realized they were in a serious situation.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "They're in a war with another tribe of Elgato and want our country's help."

Eric's mind churned as he glared at the ceiling. "_Perfect._ Did you tell them it was a misunderstanding?"

"I did, but De'Riha…she wouldn't listen. They're…she's…going to try and use us as hostages," Diana answered. Her fingers worried his temples. He couldn't think…Eric hoisted himself off the floor, worried momentarily that he'd pass out again, and took Diana by her shoulders. He looked her in the eyes and spoke plainly.

"Look. The two most important things are staying together and helping the others. Right now, we've got to convince them that I'm your servant or advisor or _something_ so they don't get it in their heads that I'm expendable," Eric said, all traces of sarcasm gone. "If we can stick together, it'll make finding our stuff and escaping that much easier."

"But…how do we convince them?" Diana asked, surprised and pleased with Eric's straightforward manner. His firm grip was steadying.

"You'll have to vouch for me," he answered. "Say that our country will not negotiate unless the both of us are safe. Besides that, say that we were looking for help for _our_ country because we're fighting with Venger. If our friend with fangs is any kind of potent, De'Riha'll have to back down."

"How can you be so sure?" she blurted, that habit of doubt rearing its ugly head. Immediately she regretted questioning him and went to say so. Only, it seemed that Eric understood. He ran his hands down her arms and clasped her hands. The gesture was so loving, and so un-Eric, that it had Diana's synapses misfiring. Was this same guy she'd known (and disliked) as a pessimistic egotist just a few months ago?

"Hey, you know me. I'm flying by the crest of my shield," Eric joked, his usual cocked eyebrow in place. Diana had to smile. They paused, eyes on each other, something unspoken growing between them.

"Cavalier…" Diana started, but the low grating interrupted her. Eric gave her a nod and squeezed her hands before dropping them. They stood and faced the feline queen as she slipped gracefully into the room.

A/N: Oh, God, I love this chapter, and I hope you did, too. Anyway, next chapter: Hank, Sheila, Bobby, Uni, and Presto try to work out what happened, plus some speculation as to the hateful relationship between Eric and Diana.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Whew! There was a lot going on in the last couple of chapters, huh? Let's take a break shall we? You may breathe a sigh of relief, if you wish XD. I present to you:

**The Silver Veil**

**III.**

"Where…where are we?" Bobby's voice sounded tiny and frightened. Uni bleated miserably from between his legs. They, Hank, Sheila, and Presto stood in a tight group looking around them with a mix of worry and wonder. The place where they stood was devoid of any sound, movement, and even temperature. The ground was a smooth grey, and suffocating mist surrounded them. They could not see any further than perhaps three feet in front of them. It was as if they occupied a non-place. Sheila shifted closer to Hank and placed a comforting hand on her younger brother's shoulder.

"I think the question is," Presto said, voice wavering, "is where _aren't_ we?"

"And where are Eric and Diana?" Sheila asked. She'd been turned toward the statue when the light blinded her. Diana's absence, even Eric's, was painfully apparent to her.

"I know they were separated from us…I think Diana fell, and Eric went after her," Hank answered slowly, understating what he'd remembered. He'd seen the knight swing at Diana, who'd lifted her javelin in the nick of time. However, the blow sent her cart-wheeling down the stone steps, and almost immediately Eric had followed her. Hank had never seen the Cavalier _leap_ like that, with his lank form stretched out all the way; he saw the knight bring down his sword, and amazingly Eric had landed, rolled, and had his shield up to protect himself and Diana.

They'd made eye contact right before the light had seared Hank's eyes. There was an unspoken agreement, Hank thought, that he'd take care of these four, and Eric would take care of Diana. He hoped it was true. He also hoped that Eric and Diana were in a better situation.

"Eric, put himself in harm's way?" Bobby asked incredulously. "Like that'd ever happen."

"He's done it before," Hank said mildly, glancing down at the four-foot Barbarian. Although he and Eric were never great friends, Hank found that Eric had a reliable streak a mile wide, and since that was the case, it was Hank's responsibility to defend it.

"Yeah, but never _moving_ that way," Presto insisted, adjusting his glasses. He, too, had seen the fantastic way Eric catapulted down the steps. Presto had been saved many a time by Eric and his shield, but Diana was a different matter.

Diana was always right up there with Hank, dodging, flipping, springing, and whatever other adjective described a gymnast, never _needing_ Eric's shield like Presto did. And in fact, never _wanting_ it, either. It wasn't too long ago that Diana had revealed that she trusted Eric, just not with her life. How ironic, Presto thought.

"How do you mean?" Sheila asked, curious as to what the boys were referring. She, too, had considered the mean way Eric and Diana treated one another and had worried and fretted over their constant bickering. Some of the things they said to one another were absolutely horrid…things that if _she_ had said them and was caught by her parents, she'd receive a mouthful of soap as punishment.

"Aren't we missing the point, here?" Bobby interjected loudly. All this talk about Eric and Diana was boring. Yes, they had been separated. Yes, they all should be concerned about their safety. But Bobby didn't see why it was so upsetting. Eric and Diana were like Hank and Sheila…they could take care of themselves. Besides this, didn't they need to get moving or set up camp or something? He shifted from one foot to the other, frowning up at the older teens.

"Bobby's right. We should try to find a way out of here," Hank said, understanding what the youngest member meant implicitly. Sheila twisted the edge of her cloak anxiously.

"But…where will we go?" she asked, turning to gaze into Hank's confident face.

"Hey, Presto! Where's your hat?" Bobby asked over her, pointing to Presto's head. Presto waved a hand over his head, green sleeve flapping back and forth.

"Where _is_ my hat?" he repeated, shock and horror on his freckled features. "Great. Diana and Eric disappear, and now my hat."

"I'm sure the Hat'll turn up soon," said Sheila comfortingly, sincerity honeying her words.

"Yeah, maybe it's up your sleeve," Bobby chuckled, but was cut short with a warning glance from his sister.

"Well, wherever it is, we're still here. Let's get moving," said Hank decisively. All this jawing was getting them nowhere, and he was concerned that Eric and Diana might need their help. Questions had been flooding through his mind ever since they'd gotten here, but Hank thought the best way to resolve anything was to take it one step at a time.

It was decided that Sheila should lead the small group, with Presto following her then Bobby (Uni faithfully by his side), and Hank taking the rear. He walked steadily, his bow resting on his shoulder, and having long since stopped looking around. There was nothing to see. Their footsteps didn't even make noise, and all that Hank could hear was his own heavy breathing and steady heartbeat. The atmosphere reminded him of shop class, where the air conditioner had never worked, and he and his classmates were closed up in a windowless warehouse in stifling heat. At least there he'd known where the exit was.

Hank nearly ran over Bobby when the line stopped abruptly. Sheila was standing at the head of their little line, her arms akimbo. The cloak fluttered when she whirled around.

"This is useless!" she said in a rare show of exasperation. Hank heard some of the Cavalier in her words. "We might as well wish for a place to stay for all the good this walking around is doing us!"

"She-"

"HOLY COW!" Bobby and Presto shouted in tandem, cutting off anything Hank was about to say. They both pointed as a house appeared from nowhere less than twenty feet away from them. Hank had the same sediment; only he substituted 'shit' for 'cow.' His astonishment allowed time for his mouth to catch up with his brain.

"I wish for nature," he said simply. The smooth grey ground shifted, first turning a brilliant shade of green, and then sprouting long tendrils of grass. The thick blanket of fog dissipated, and Hank watched as trees plumed from all around, surrounding the group and the house in a lush forest. Sunlight spread over the new plant life, wind ruffled the leaves and the group's hair, and telltale sounds of birds and insects harmonized beautifully.

"COOL!" Bobby exclaimed excitedly. "I wish for a gallon of ice cream!" It was like the appearing trick Dungeon Master used on them all the time. One second Bobby was holding his club with both hands, the next he was holding a tub of mint-chocolate chip ice cream with one.

"I spelled us into a wishing dimension!" said Presto, eyes agog with amazement.

"Let's go inside!" Sheila was already halfway to the front door of the house, and the others followed, willingly throwing caution to the wind.

Once through the door, they all separated to explore. Sheila, Bobby, and Uni stomped up the stairs, and Hank and Presto moved around the bottom floor.

"A refrigerator," Presto said wonderingly, crossing the open kitchen to fling open the white doors and stick his head inside. "Pinch me, I'm _dreaming_!"

Hank tried the tap; water flowed freely.

"Running water, too," he replied, eyes searching for any foul play. They both turned toward the second open entryway.

Attached to the kitchen was a dining room with a thick table set with one…two…six table places! Through the dining room, across the entrance way, snuggled in the corner of the house was a sitting room, complete with couch, loveseat, and bay window. A fire crackled invitingly in a brick hearth.

Upstairs, Bobby and Sheila were opening doors, smiling hugely. Seven bedrooms were somehow fitted on the upper level, six with a bed and--this is what threw Sheila over the edge of sanity--a bathroom! As Sheila went from room to room, she noticed that there was a distinct personality to each room, almost as if the house was anticipating the seven occupants.

Eric's room would be the one with dark mahogany, navy and green wallpaper, deep carpet, and heavy brass. Bobby's was filled with dinosaurs, sports equipment and memorabilia, and blue. The pure white, minimalist, economical room was Diana's, and Hank's was the room with oak and Americana, and only second starkest of the rooms. Of course Presto's was the one filled to the brim with weird junk, books, and surprisingly, black. Even Uni had a room, which was like stepping into the Valley of the Unicorns once again.

Sheila's favorite was a sunny room with yellow paint and a fussy matching border. Frilly curtains and lace made the room seem so girly, so homey, that she couldn't resist flopping on the bed with her arms spread out. Pillows toppled to the carpet, and she noticed a mirror occupying one corner. How long had it been since she'd seen a reflection of herself?

Before she could move to find out, Bobby came slamming into her room, Uni not far behind.

"Boy, this place is awesome! Presto really did it this time," he said gratuitously. Sheila smiled and nodded, and allowed Bobby to pull her up and lead her downstairs by the hand.

"How did I do this?" Presto asked, confusion evident in face and voice, when they all gathered in the kitchen. He still couldn't believe the Hat had transported them to somewhere comfortable _and_ accommodating.

"I don't know, but it's great work," Hank said, grinning. It was a relief that they were cut a break this time around. Then to Bobby, Sheila, and Uni, "How's the upstairs look?"

"Gee, Hank, there're seven rooms and mine's got dinosaurs and sports stuff and there's one for Uni that looks exactly like where she came from and Sheila's room is right across the hall from mine and your room and Presto's room are down the hallway and-"

"Whoa, slow down," Hank interrupted, but Bobby was already dragging him down the hall.

"C'mon, Hank, you gotta see it!" They disappeared up the stairs, Bobby still talking a mile a minute.

"Presto, this is too good to be true," Sheila said, running her hand along the cool countertop. The convenience of this place was wonderful, but a small voice whispered at the back of her head, wondering what price had to be paid for what they were doing here.

"You have a weird feeling, too, huh?" The tone of his voice struck a chord with her emotions. She looked across at him, pulled between relief, concern, and confusion.

"Yes. Like something should go wrong…what's that law? M-something?" She drummed her fingers on the counter in contemplation. Presto provided her with the answer.

"Murphy's Law. Everything that could go wrong, _will_. I see what you mean," he agreed, taking off his glasses and peering through them. Smudges, flecks of dirt, and matter not known to man clouded the lenses.

"It's awfully quiet without Diana and Eric," he admitted softly. He glanced at Sheila to see how she'd responded. He hadn't meant to blurt it out, but for some reason, he had to say it. Sheila bowed her head and ran her fingers through her stringy red hair.

"Isn't that the truth," she replied, just as softly. She paused, and Presto felt she had something more to say, so he waited patiently, cleaning his glasses on his robe sleeve.

"Presto," she continued, locking eyes with him, "what did you mean, before, when you said that you'd never seen Eric move like that?"

"Oh, ah. Heh, heh, heh," he chuckled weakly, reluctant to elaborate, but Sheila was looking at him with a silent curiosity in her eyes. "Uh, well, you know Eric and his desire to remain whole, right?" Sheila confirmed this with a nod, so Presto continued.

"Diana was knocked down those stairs. And Eric was like…was like ready to sacrifice limbs to get down to her in time. I mean…he basically _flew_ down those steps." Presto paused to illustrate what he'd seen with his hands and a whistle through his teeth. She bit her lip, understanding somewhat what Presto was trying to convey.

"He's never done that before, is all," Presto told her, feeling like he had described it to her inadequately.

"You think…you think it had something to do with…Diana?" asked Sheila. She always wondered if under their nitpicking was something more. Hadn't she caught Eric giving Diana the once-over every now and again, _especially_ when she was putting away her javelin? It had been the same way with Hank, early in their relationship. Hank had watched her silently, stoically from afar, unwilling or too shy to actually _say_ anything to her Moreover, hadn't she seen Diana purposely pick a fight with Eric before? It was the same trick Bobby pulled from time to time back on Earth when he wanted his parent's attention.

"Oh, yeah," Presto answered, smirking in a very impish way. "I think denial isn't only a river in Egypt."

"What's not in Egypt?" asked Bobby, coming around the corner. Sheila had to take a few moments to actually recognize him. Her brother no longer wore the horned metal helmet, and the fur and studded leather were gone. Instead, he had on a t-shirt and jeans. The sight threw her, and Presto did a noticeable double-take.

"I found some clothes in the closet," he explained when Sheila and Presto didn't say anything after a moment. But before they had a chance to, Hank's voice came thundering down at them from the top level.

"HEY GUYS! COME SEE WHAT I FOUND!"

**A/N: **My, my. What a nasty little cliffhanger. Don't you just hate those? Next chapter: Venger and Shadow Demon make an appearance, plus a little more action from Eric and Diana. Well, it's mostly Diana. And as always, show your love and leave a review. Please?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** In an amazing amount of speed, I have produced another fine chapter of "The Silver Veil." This chapter was a bunch of fun to write, as I love delving into the mysteries that surround Venger and Shadow Demon. I have a theory about Shadow Demon and Venger that I'm going to express in the near future. Please enjoy!

**The Silver Veil**

**IV.**

I.

"THAT IS IM_POSSIBLE_!" Venger roared, shaking the walls of his keep. "HOW COULD YOU LOSE TRACK OF THEM, IMBECILE?!"

"Mmm…mm…my L-lord," Shadow Demon stuttered. His vaporous form shuddered with fear under Venger's immense rage. A huge beam of deadly light took out a hole the size of a Lizardman in the wall behind Shadow Demon. His white eyes widened in surprise when Venger's strong fingers closed around his throat. Thick, knife-sharp claws dug into Shadow Demon's flesh. Venger was the only one alive who could grasp Shadow Demon as if he was solid. Through the hazing pain that Shadow Demon writhed against, he wondered if he was at last going to be killed by his master's fury.

Suddenly Venger relinquished his grip on Shadow Demon. The evil mage turned, his bat-like wings half raised in temper. The black spirit, if he had had lungs, would have breathed deeply in relief. Instead, he cowered against the wall, waiting for Venger to speak. After a long, long pause, Venger faced Shadow Demon, his anger contained for the time being.

"Tell me what happened. Do not spare any detail," Venger said, calmly. His eyes were calculating and absolutely maniacal.

As Shadow Demon related the Young Ones' latest escape from his clutches, Venger's mind whirled and scurried to gather pieces for a plan. But it seemed that the Magician had finally worked a spell that transported all of Dungeon Master's pupils out of his reach. Venger stood by a laden table and clacked his fingernails on the scarred wood. A knock at his door interrupted him.

"Enter," he said imperiously, lifting a hand to open the door for the quaking Orc captain who stood there. Stupid beasts, they were easily influenced with threats and riches.

"M-master," the Orc gulped visibly as he stepped through the threshold, "I have news from Keladex."

That fool. What did he want now? Venger flashed his fangs in disgust.

"What _is_ it?" he prompted when the Orc seemed unwilling to speak further.

"He says that he has the magic wizard's hat, my Lord." The Orc spoke quickly, and his eyes flicked over to the open door. Venger smiled, breathing the potent stench of fear rolling off the Orc in waves. Perhaps the Young Ones were within his grasp after all.

"Very well. Let Keladex name his price. We shall take care of him," he answered. He shifted to fix Shadow Demon with a chilling glare. "And you. Employ all units. The Young Ones _must_ be found!"

Venger dismissed the Orc captain and Shadow Demon with a swirl of his robes. Indeed, if the Young Ones had been teleported, he would soon find out where. He leaned over his cauldron, circling his finger above the bubbling liquid to stir it magically. Just another turn of the day-glass, and the potion would be ready for consumption. Yes, he would have those weapons very soon. His gleeful smile looked doubly wicked in the glow of the fire and the dim of his chambers.

From a mile away, in the shadow of a tree, Shadow Demon again trembled in fear. Venger's emotions were known to all he commanded, but Shadow Demon felt them particularly. And he knew his master was feeling happy, which was worse than anger. When Venger was angry, his minions knew what to expect. This was not the case with happiness. Shadow Demon was all too glad to be out of Venger's presence for the time being. He touched his throat gently where five claws had dug in. Shadow Demon didn't bleed, but he still could be injured. He could still be destroyed.

"I must hurry and spread the word," he said to himself. As much as he could, he increased his flight, jumping from dark to dark, matter to matter. He would stop at the gypsies first, who knew all rumors, heard all things, some even Venger did not know. They used mystical, old power to help them 'see' things. His master had rejected their magic long ago as weak and unreliable, the people difficult and tricky, but Shadow Demon still occasionally went to them for help. His was certainly desperate enough.

He arrived at the gypsy camp within the hour. Their caravan was plain, innocuous, and carefully made. The people who were performing various tasks were dark of hair and eye, strong in body, clever in mind. Shadow Demon passed through several carts before coming to the one he sought.

An old woman, gnarled, wrinkled, wizened, sat huddled under a colorful blanket. She was by the window on a bench, gazing with milky eyes at the scenery. The inside of her cart was cozy, but barren. Shadow Demon materialized in a dark corner. Her head turned, and a small smile lifted the heavy folds of her face.

"Ah, Shadow Demon pays me another visit. How are you, dear one?" she asked him, her voice rustling like autumn leaves across stone. He still could not figure out how she knew when he was there. This was also the case with the reason why she deigned to help him.

"I am well, Madame," he replied politely. Shadow Demon was an evil creature by nature, but he could not help being respectful to this one person besides Venger.

"You have come for information on Dungeon Master's pupils, have you not?" Madame asked, tilting her head, her unseeing eyes resting on him.

"That is correct." Whenever he visited, he got the feeling that he was being looked through. It was uncomfortable, if Shadow Demon had ever known comfort.

"The Acrobat and Cavalier are in the capital city in the land of the Elgatos. I know not where the others are," she said, as her hands unfolded and stroked the edges of the blanket. Shadow Demon contained his excitement. The Elgatos were not that far away from a gathering of troops! It could be that the Cavalier and Acrobat would be in Venger's grasp within the day.

"Thank you." She was the only person Shadow Demon ever thanked. He was halfway through the wood when her call stopped him.

"Shadow Demon?"

"Yes, Madame?"

"You're not as evil as you think you are," she told him. "Good luck."

Puzzled, Shadow Demon left and began moving towards the plains where the Elgatos lived. Her curious words stayed with him, though they mattered not. Later, he would remember her kind, gentle face and the ease with which she spoke to him. It would be the last thing he would ever remember.

II.

The Elgato queen eyed Eric dubiously, no doubt thinking he was a miserable creature, swaying on his feet in ugly clothes, pale as a ghost.

"You have had your time. Now you are obligated to be peaceful in the dungeon," she said to him, purring occasionally in her speech. Diana gave Eric a sidelong glance, still wondering about what he had done to merit such odd words. "Queen Diana, please come with me."

De'Riha lifted a pawish hand, and the same two guards as before seized Eric and began half-dragging him to the exit. It was painfully apparent that he was too weak to walk properly, as his last grain of strength had been spent on Diana, much less give the guards a struggle. When he did not gain his feet, one of the guards, the one wearing boots and a vest, hissed angrily and raked Eric's back as viciously as it was maliciously. Curls of cloth floated delicately to the floor. Eric, who only grunted in pain, began bleeding copiously.

"NO!" Diana shrieked, and without thinking, she hurtled at one of the cat guards. Like a hockey player, she body-slammed him, knocking him off his feet into the wall. His forehead made contact, leaving a splatter of blood and fur. He slumped to the floor, and Diana picked herself up, standing like an animal ready to attack. The second guard had dropped Eric and was pointing a spear at Diana. Eric was laid out, propping himself up on an elbow, looking as though he was dying.

At Diana's feet lay a spear. _Well, why not?_ she mused as she picked it up. Holding it in the same manner as the Elgato, she circled around, sneering like a mean, hungry pit bull. The cat, cautious now that his buddy had fallen because of her, oppositely stepped in tandem with Diana. His tail flicked around behind him, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. He hissed and spat at her.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," she taunted, calculating her steps perfectly. She would make him pay tenfold for the injury he caused Eric. When the guard was where she wanted him to be, Diana heaved the spear to a shelf above the Elgato's head. The shelf collapsed, and a heavy-looking vase crashed on top of him. He, too, crumpled to the ground in a furry, formless heap.

But Diana didn't care. She dropped to her knees to lean over Eric. He was smirking at her.

"You…sure showed…kitty," he whispered, having barely enough energy to keep his eyes open. Diana supported him, not trusting herself to speak. She didn't like Eric this way, completely drained and devoid of his usual sarcasm. A rustle of cloth brought her attention to the Elgato queen.

"_What_ do you _think_ you are _doing_?" De'Riha hissed. The gall of this human, to treat her guards as such! Diana glared at De'Riha, shifting to wrap Eric's arm around her neck and her arm around his waist. She was careful not to touch his deep wounds that graced his back with devilish colors. Her simmering temper boiled over, edging her words in a way that would have earned her a slap from her mother if she had ever heard her daughter speak that way.

"Protecting the king, what _else_ do you think? I just did you a _favor_," Diana added, hoisting up Eric mightily. "You _almost_ made a huge mistake."

The female Elgato considered Diana carefully, one of her clawed, furry fingers tapping her chin. Her large, green eyes narrowed slyly.

"Is that so?" she asked Diana. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"How was I to know you wouldn't just execute him?" Diana snapped, eyes flashing. De'Riha went silent for the moment. This human queen was unique and strong, for sure. And the king…he had maddened her guards into breaking their duty! Perhaps she wouldn't hold them hostage after all, if they could fight and think as well as this. She watched as Diana maneuvered Eric to the pile of pillows, where she carefully put him on his side and mashed the pillows around to make him comfortable.

"Queen Diana. Come with me. We shall discuss your options," De'Riha decided at last. Diana shot her a venomous glance that actually had De'Riha stepping back.

"No. I'm staying here, with my king. It's my duty," she answered firmly, heart beating nervously against her ribs with the blatant lie. "Besides, he's the one you should be talking to."

De'Riha hesitated, thinking about calling in more guards to subdue the impertinent queen. Then a groan from the side reminded her of what had happened to the two guards before, and she changed her mind. She would allow Diana to nurse the king back to health so negotiations could begin.

"As you wish. I shall send in food and drink, and of course, medical supplies. When the king is back in health, send word with the guards. Then we will see about helping one another," De'Riha told her. The cat-like queen swept around and moved through the open door. Four other guards came through, lifted the two unconscious Elgatos between them, and left. The wall grated shut and Eric and Diana were left in peace.

"You'd make…a great actress," Eric murmured brokenly, so lowly she had to bend over to hear him. Now he was complimenting her? This wasn't like Eric at all. She started when Eric gasped. She looked down, and his eyes, deep and brown, were wide, but not from pain. From fear.

"Something's here," he whispered, drawn lips barely moving. She glanced around. Nothing.

"Are you sure?" she asked, thinking that he was imagining things in his weakened state. He grabbed her wrist.

"_Yes_. I'm weak, not crazy, _Queenie_," Eric told her angrily, half-sitting up and grimacing as he did so. His eyes shifted to the corners of the room. "Humph. It's gone now anyway." He settled back down, releasing her wrist. A customary scowl turned his lips downwards, giving him a haughty, noble look.

"And I'm fine," he continued. "Never better." Diana had been ready to ask him how he felt. _Jerk_, she thought, deciding to not press the issue further and couldn't, anyway, because Eric had fallen asleep. She tried to not think about how she felt when Eric had grasped her wrist; especially ignoring the deep anticipation of bandaging him up.

III.

The Cavalier and the Acrobat were indeed being held captive by the Elgatos. Shadow Demon fluidly flowed from one spot to another, hurrying toward the Orc encampment just outside the plains under which the cat-beings made their home. He would prepare the Ocs for battle, then relay the message to Venger, who would deploy all units on this location, and perhaps even come to join the battle.

His master would soon be most powerful in the Realm. A giddiness captured Shadow Demon that he'd felt before on occasions when Venger's plans were coming together seamlessly.

All that was left was to find the Ranger, Thief, Magician, and Barbarian.

**A/N: **I love punishing Eric. I don't know why, but I do. Please leave comments, suggestions, or questions please! Next chapter will reveal what Hank found and a nasty surprise for Eric. I sort of feel sorry for him. See you then!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay folks, and THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS. I was so surprised (and happy) when I saw all the Review Alerts! So thanks again! This chapter has a little bit of crude language, and I apologize for it ahead of time. Please enjoy:

**The Silver Veil**

**V.**

I.

"What did you find?" Sheila asked when she, Presto, Bobby, and Uni found Hank. The blond ranger was standing at a door that she hadn't noticed before at the end of the hall. All the bedroom doors were opened; she passed by hers, Eric's, and Diana's; the others' were down the opposite direction. Hank turned to them, a magnificent smile beaming down on them, warming up his blue eyes so they sparkled like a mountain lake in winter. Sheila was reminded of why she fell for Hank in the first place.

"You aren't gonna believe this," he said, placing a hand on the doorknob. The door itself was plain, hardly distinguished from the wallpaper decorating the hallway. What on earth could he be so happy about?

"The suspense is killing me!" Presto said with mock gasp, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. Sheila and Bobby giggled giddily. She didn't know why, but deep, deep in the pit of her heart, she knew what Hank was going to show them.

"Guys," Hank said seriously, "lookit this!"

He flung open the door. Silence hit the group like a stream roller.

Could it possibly be?

"AAAAAAHHH!" the Thief screamed rapturously. Tears sprang to her eyes. Presto and Bobby jumped, grabbing each other in a bear hug, uproariously celebrating the sight.

Through the door, a large Ferris wheel stood in the near-distance; a hotdog stand sat, empty and quiet; a largish, man-made pond lapped at grassy banks; and the garish, red letters of the fateful 'Dungeons and Dragons' ride scrolled across a roof.

Hank and Sheila were included in Bobby and Presto's hug, and they jumped around in a circle, the floorboards creaking in strain under their feet.

It felt like the world had been given to them.

Indeed, it had been.

II.

He couldn't catch his breath…sweat poured down his face, blinding him. He couldn't see…he couldn't see, couldn't move fast enough. Something dark and void was pursuing him, pressing him all around with hateful power and glee.

_Venger._

He couldn't speed up_,_ even though he was ignoring his screaming legs, ignoring the stabbing stitch in his side. It felt like he was running in water…a crystal clear memory popped randomly in his head: it was when he and his cousins had raced in the pool when they were younger, a lifetime ago. This was a different kind of race.

_I'm so heavy._

Legs, brown, sculpted, beautiful, were steadied by his free arm.

_Diana._

It was she who was weighting him down. She was slung over his shoulder, limp as a cooked noodle. Something had happened…something devastating…

A resonating roar surrounded him, drawing precious, precious air from his lungs. He had to let go of something, lessen the weight dragging down his body. Venger wanted him to drop her, and he knew it.

_NO. Never. NEVER!_

The Shield weighted the other.

_Can't lose the Shield either._

_Fuck._

He was not normally an f-word person, but desperate situations called for desperate words.

A hot wind billowed his red cloak around his legs, nearly tripping him up. A dark passageway caught his attention, both far and near, topping a long staircase ascending to the ceiling of the place.

_Where was this?_

He hated stairs.

_Why does every place I go have damned stairs?_

"GIVE UP, CAVALIER! YOU AND THE ACROBAT ARE MINE!" Venger's voice spurred him on. How had he found them?

_Venger…was different._

_Hank…?_

He grasped at the thought, lost it. There was something he was missing, locked tight in the back of his mind…it had to do with Diana. He couldn't think of it…couldn't think, run faster, breathe.

A chance was taken to look over his shoulder. Venger flew, _flew,_ along the pathway, his robes flowing out in the wind like some deadly, demonic flower. His wings were cocked to catch the drafts of air.

_Not going to make it._

He couldn't think over pain, asphyxiation, and terror. So he didn't. His foot landed on the first of the stairs. He didn't look to the top, didn't want to know how much further he had to go.

_Clankclankclankclankclank…_his metal was distractingly noisy. His lungs were fit to burst.

_Just go, get there. Get there._

His legs moved up and down, up and down, a million times over, so that the burning gave way to a dull, deep ache. He couldn't help it…his eyes flicked upwards, saw the dark entry blurred and maybe ten steps away.

_God, almost there…almost…_

His instinct panged; he flattened himself against the stairs, managed to cover Diana awkwardly, knees and elbows banging around on the stone. Punishment was nothing new, and besides, his body was too numb to care anymore.

In slow motion, he watched as a bolt of energy vaporized half his cloak. The entryway was so damned close, but so was Venger.

_Fuck._

Diana chose that moment to wake, perhaps she had intuited his situation, or perhaps it was chance. It didn't matter. Face ashen, body trembling, she looked to Eric for an explanation.

"Can you move?" he asked her. His voice was calm, unlike the hysteria shredding through him like a Chihuahua with an inferiority complex.

_How am I sounding so calm?_

She didn't seem to know what he meant.

"_Can you move?!_" he fairly shouted at her.

"Y..yes…I think," she answered softly. Eric glanced up to the entrance.

_You know what to do._ His stupid logic was swift with its decision. As usual, it was a bad idea. Stupid.

_Necessary._

It took Eric a split second to assess Venger's distance, then to hoist Diana into his arms. She was light, child-like. She made a startled noise, maybe because he'd picked her up suddenly, maybe because Venger was nearing them so rapidly.

"What are you…?" she started, but he didn't let her finish.

With a heave worthy of Hercules, Eric tossed Diana up the rest of the stairs and into the entryway. She rolled, disappearing just as rocks dropped to block the exit.

_Safe, for now._

The Cavalier whirled to face Venger. He was standing right behind him…

III.

"SHIT!" Eric shouted, jerking violently, and waking himself up from his nightmare. He was soaked through with sweat, shaking like a leaf, and nearly crying from terror and relief. It was all he could do to breathe properly.

"Eric? Are you okay?" It was Diana, and she found him in seconds. "Cripes, you're shaking! What happened?"

She had been sleeping near him and was, by habit, a light sleeper. Eric had made no indication that he was in the throes of a nightmare. She would have done something to help. Diana gave him time to answer; the way he'd responded…it must've been a doozy of a nightmare.

Eric played for time. It wasn't that he didn't want her comfort. He wanted it, _craved_ it. But the shock, fear, and reality of the nightmare turned him away from it. How could he share something that…_real_ with her? There would be no way she could understand. Besides, if he made a big deal, she'd worry and stress over it. The only way, he thought, to get her to back off was to respond in his usual manner. Eric grasped at the first sarcastic comment that ran through his mind.

"It's nothing. I always wake up this way," he said, as aloofly as possible while shrugging her hands off. "Now, if you'll excuse me? I need my beauty rest." He rolled over to his other side, forgetting about the fresh wounds on his shoulder and back, and sheepishly returned to the more comfortable side. Of course, it was the side Diana was on.

"Are you _serious_?" Diana asked, truly amazed at his snide remark. "You can't tell me that dream was _nothing!_"

He could tell by the tone of her voice that she wasn't going to let this one slide. There was one option he could take, although he hesitated to do so.

"Eric, answer me!" she prompted him.

"What? You suddenly became my mother?" Eric replied irately. He couldn't see her face, but could imagine it all the same. Her brown eyes crunched, mouth in a grim line. She retaliated by grabbing his shoulder, his _wounded_ shoulder, and with fingertips that were precise and brutal, squeezed.

"YEOWCH!" the Cavalier howled, slapping her hand away. Phantom fingers continued their pressure, points throbbing and pulsating. "Why didja _do_ that?!"

"I can tell when you're avoiding the subject," said Diana firmly. "Now tell me what's wrong."

"I can't," he answered stubbornly, and although she couldn't see it, she could tell his nose was in the air. "It's a secret."

"_Why_ are you being so difficult?" Diana asked, shifting closer to him, ready to beat the truth out of him. But before she had a chance to, the lights in the room flickered on, and the doors grated open. The Elgato queen and several of her guards entered.

"What _now_?" Eric asked, massaging the shoulder Diana just punished.

"Orcs have invaded the city!" De'Riha cried, sweeping her furry arm to the window. Wait, window?

"Where'd _that_ come from?" he sputtered, as Diana left him to lean out of the opening in the wall. She saw smoke and the flicker of flames across the darkness on the other side of the city.

"Fight for us, and you will be free to go," De'Riha continued, and Eric and Diana both heard the note of desperation in her voice.

"First we need our things," Diana told her. The Elgato queen gestured with her arm, and two others, not guards, brought in a chest and set it in front of Eric. Eric, who remembered Zandora's box with vividness, hesitatingly opened it. He sighed with relief. Diana's regular outfit and his armor, plus their magical items, were neatly laid inside.

"No surprises here," he said _sans_ regret. De'Riha made a wide gesture with her arm.

"Please prepare yourselves quickly. When you are ready, call the guards. They will escort you to the battle," she told them and left, allowing no room for debate. Eric and Diana glanced at one another. Eric shrugged, and so Diana left the window to take her things out of the chest.

"And don't think you're off the hook yet," she said to Eric. He gazed at her shrewdly, but remained silent. _Well, now_, she thought, _Mr. Sarcasm doesn't have anything to say_.

After a quick glance around, Diana found a changing screen situated in one of the corners of the room, and she went behind that, not trusting enough to change in a strange place.

As Diana removed the slippery dress, she listened to the soft chatter of metal as Eric armored up. A naughty little voice told her to peek around the edge of the screen. She angrily suppressed it and focused on adjusting her outfit comfortably.

"Are you _ready_ yet?" Eric asked, his voice startlingly close by. He was near enough, probably on purpose, that she could hear him muttering under his breath. "Females are all alike. You're in a hurry, and she finds time to fix her hair."

"For your information, Cavalier," Diana said, stepping around the screen, "I'm _not_ fixing my hair." She used the javelin to thump him on his plated chest. Smirking in that maddening way of his, Eric grabbed the end of her javelin and tugged it with surprising strength so that she stumbled forward a few steps.

"Maybe not. But I'm sure you were fixing _something_," he said. Did she detect an innuendo? But before she could retort, Eric let go of her staff and turned to bellow at the open doorway. "Guards, we're ready!"

**A/N:** The question you should be asking: Is Eric's dream a premonition? Next chapter: Eric and Diana are off to battle! And unlike the cartoon, an explanation of origin of the Silver Veil begins. Until next time.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Thanks everyone for such kind reviews and comments. It helps so much to see that people are enjoying my work. Here's the next chapter.

**The Silver Veil**

**Chapter VI.**

I.

It is said that in the time of the ancients, before dark evil spread across the Realm, there once lived a beautiful princess. The princess lived in a mighty castle, in the topmost spire, away from all eyes that would seek her beauty. Her father, the king, was a careful, jealous man, and he would not have any take away his precious daughter. The princess had thus lived a wretched, lonely life.

The only company the princess had was the gentle birds that flew around her tower, singing for her sweet songs and melodies. On many occasions, the birds would alight on her windowsill and listen to her talk of her dreams, wishes, and hopes. One of these wishes was to escape from the tower and marry a brave and handsome man.

The birds, although unable to speak, sympathized with the girl's plight (as many had relatives in cages in the very same castle) and twittered and tweeted for many hours to discuss a plan for the princess's escape.

Nearby there lived a poor, dutiful farmer whose only family was his young son. The son, much like the princess, spoke at length to the birds about his dreams. It was decided among the birds that this farmer's son would be the one to free the princess from her prison at the top of the tower.

Many more hours were spent in discussion on how the farmer's son would be able to enter the castle. The king, as suspicious as he was, had locked and barred all entryways, and guards circled the castle walls looking for unsavory folk. It was then decided that the farmer's son would need magical help.

Rumor from the birds in the north had it that an old witch lived there who would lend her magic to aid another for the right price.

It was then decided that the farmer's son should take the road north and seek the witch's help.

To give the princess hope and to encourage the farmer's son, the birds employed a special bird, which had been trained to speak the human language. This bird conveyed the messages to the princess and the farmer's son without flaw.

The next morning, the farmer's son set out, promising his father he would be back before the next planting.

For many days he traveled northward alone, as the birds kept watch from the skies above. The farmer's son eventually came to an empty town. When he first entered, calling out for any sign of life, he was set upon by a band of thieves.

Although he was only a farmer's son, he fought hard and bravely. He was subdued nonetheless and was put before the leader of the thieves.

"You have fought bravely, farmer's son," said the leader, "and you have earned my respect. What is one wish I could grant you?"

The farmer's son thought for several passing moments before answering.

"I only desire an escort to the far reaches of the north where I may find an old woman there capable of magic," he replied prudently.

II.

The Elgatos hustled Eric and Diana through dark hallways and into the streets of the city. The guards, excited and nervous, bled forward, allowing Eric the opportunity to catch Diana's arm and pull her near as they moved. He spoke softly in her ear, and Diana went rigid when her heart fluttered against her chest.

"You can't possibly think we're going to fight," he said, keeping pace with her long strides. She glanced at him sideways and smirked a little meanly.

"Scared, Eric?"

"Yeah, I'm scared. Aren't _you_?" Eric's tone was nothing but honest. She shouldn't have expected anything else. But by some slight chance, he'd called her out on the carpet. She wanted to tell him that she was terrified, but what good would it do? The agonizing worry and the anxiety wrapped around her chest would remain regardless.

Diana knew that it was the worry and anxiety of not being in control. She had taken control when the opportunity had presented itself because they both needed control of the situation. They had to do something for themselves because Hank wasn't around to do the job for them. Why wouldn't Eric come to terms with that? But this was no time to pick a fight. Diana chose her next words very carefully so that she would rally Eric's courage.

"We're fighting because it's the _right _thing to do. Besides, _our_ freedom is at stake," she told him, slowing down enough so she could look him in the eyes. He was frowning with that same haughty look she'd seen when he'd been resting, and she knew that her words had hit their mark. Inside he was at war with himself, but deep down in the very dark of his heart, he already knew that she was right.

"This is dumbest thing I've ever done," he muttered, urging Diana forward so they could catch up to the Elgatos, who were a block or so ahead of them. He missed her small approving smile.

When they arrived at the scene, everything was in uproarious pandemonium. The fire, so little from up in the palace, was eating at everything. The heat rolled over Diana and Eric in waves, and their sweat ran down in rivers. Both of them squinted their eyes as ashes filled the air like swarming bees. Smoke snarled at their noses and clawed at their lungs ruthlessly, limiting fresh air and clear breaths. Everywhere Elgatos were running, writhing bodies of terror and confusion, hissing and yowling as if in the pits of hell. Hell is where Eric considered himself to be.

He and Diana had paused, trying to gain some sort of understanding from the utter chaos that ran rampant around them.

"I'D GIVE ANYTHING FOR A SNO CONE!" he shouted at Diana, keeping his eyes on the twisting flood of fur and tail. Her answer, if she had given one, was lost in an enormous explosion that boomed to their right. The blast vibrated their lungs and hearts, and afterwards, hearing anything was difficult. Sudden light plumed up, up, up until it touched the ceiling of the cavern, then everything was thrown into darkness.

It was when he rolled over, armor scrapping the cobblestones, that he discovered that they had been knocked off their feet. Fire glimmered and flickered over the sprawled bodies, and Eric was painfully aware that some of them were probably dead. Through watering eyes, he searched for Diana and found her crumpled ten feet away. Unaware of what he was doing, Eric army-crawled his way to Diana's form in less than three seconds.

"Diana?" He could hardly hear himself over his heartbeat, the fire, the ringing in his ears and the silence she gave him. What was wrong with her? Very close now to hysterics, he shook her, urging her into waking. When he touched her, her head lolled to the side. Eric's throat constricted at the dark blood flowing from a wound to her temple. A weak little thought gasped. _Dead?_

Another thought screamed at him to administer CPR, and slowly Eric lowered his cheek to her lips. Breath heated his already scorched skin. She wasn't dead, _halleLUjah_! He very nearly jumped for joy, but a single thought subdued him instantly.

_What would I do without her?_

The question rang crystal clear through his mind, stark and blinding through the muddled fog that gathered there.

But Eric didn't have a chance to ponder it. A barrage of heavy marching feet drew his attention to his surroundings. He and Diana had entered a court from a main street. The street ran through this largish area, about fifty feet or so circular, surrounded by enormous domes that were homes, and exited out toward the edge of the cavern. On the opposite side, Eric was faced with twenty or so Orc soldiers, wearing Venger's colors and holding the usual nasty, sharp weaponry. They came like doom through the curling, shifting smoke, their protruding and yellowed teeth completely sharp under shining, black eyes that Eric could see from across the courtyard.

From behind, the ominous chatter of spears and swords signified the gathering of Elgato soldiers to match the invaders. Eric, without the help from his dad's war strategy guide, understood implicitly that he and Diana were in a dangerous position. Carefully, and as coolly as possible, Eric situated Diana so he could cradle her in his arms. As an afterthought, he grabbed Diana's shrunk javelin and wedged it through his belt.

Half of him shook out of fear; the other half shook from the thrill of having Diana caged so close to his chest. Sheer will and adrenaline kept him upright and moving hurriedly to the outside rim of the court, where he spotted several alleyways that would aide in his escape.

"THERE'S THE CAVALIER!"

"HE'S GOT THE ACROBAT!"

"GET 'EM BOTH!"

The thunderous voices chilled Eric's blood to the degree of liquid nitrogen. He gave a half-glance over his shoulder, noticed the body of the Orc soldiers shift in his direction, and flat-out sprinted to the nearest alley.

The alley was surprisingly cool and free of smoke, and Eric thanked the powers that be that the raging fire had not yet touched this passageway to freedom. A door appeared to his right, and grasping at sudden inspiration, located the doorknob and stomped on it with all his might. The aged, worn lock was no match for Eric's mailed foot coupled with desperate strength, and it crashed inwards with splinters and without regret.

The noise and movement prodded at Diana's consciousness, and she stirred from the blackness that suffocated her. It wasn't air that pressed against her…it was solid--solid…and smooth.

"Er…ic?" Diana's soft voice drew his scattered attention together.

"About _time_!" Eric exclaimed and paused at what he assumed was a sofa to lay her on. Next to the sofa was an end table with a huge display of flowers. Eric pitched the flowers to the floor and scooped out some water to sprinkle on Diana's face. Slowly, languidly, she came around and sat up, pressing a hand to her head.

"Uhn…wha…what happened?" It was difficult to think around the pounding behind her forehead.

"_You_ decided to take a cat nap," he snapped at her, suddenly angry for her losing consciousness and _leaving_ him like that. But on the heels of his retort, Eric realized that she'd _scared_ him. Not the cowardly act he put up when the others were around, but rather it had been true, bone-marrow-deep fear, only trumped by Venger's presence. Crossing his arms, Eric turned away to glare down the dark hallway to give himself a moment to recover.

She watched him, watching the light slide across his face. He looked like her baby brother right before going into a temper tantrum. Her mental notes on Eric queued up, and she realized that he was trying to hide his feelings by acting like a little kid. But what feelings were being hid? Diana debated on what to say next, but angry, guttural sounds from the back of the building stopped her. Diana didn't know she'd frozen until Eric became a flurry of movement beside her.

"Time to go," Eric said breathlessly, grabbing her hand and yanking her to her feet.

As the Cavalier charged through the house, he saw by the dim light, with ironic realization, that the cats that lived there must be very wealthy. A stairway loomed up out of the half-dark, and Eric stomped up them, his nightmare reoccurring to him in brilliant Technicolor, before Diana broke his concentration.

"Where are we going?" Diana called from behind him. _As if I know_, Eric thought, wondering if there was a roof to this place or what.

At that instance, his foot caught and he fell forward. His velocity, combined with his body mass, shattered the weak wooden stairs under him, and much like his foot punching through the door, Eric crashed through the steps like a human canon ball.

He landed, face-first, in a huge pile of rotting vegetables of some sort. Eric had one second to rejoice at his wholeness before…

"Ooomph! Hey, watch it!"

Diana had tumbled and landed on top of him, more or less on her feet.

"_I_ was, but _you_ decided to go _through_ the stairs, instead of _up_ them," Diana quipped, hooking Eric in the crook of his elbow and bringing him to his feet. He came up, but he had a wig of limp, dark, smelly veggies hanging willy-nilly off his head. She chuckled, "That's _so_ fashionable."

"Yeah, thanks. It's hot off the Realm runway," he replied, yanking the all-natural wig off and tossing it to the side. Noises from above signaled their need to leave. Instinctively, Diana reached around for her javelin, but found it missing.

"Oh, no," she whispered, her hand feeling the customary spot for her weapon. A growing fear spread through her stomach up to her heart with lethal speed. Its fingers were icy and strong. When had it gone missing? It must have been when…

"Eric! We-oh," she started then stopped abruptly. Eric was holding up the rod of wood with a triumphant quirk on his lips. She half expected him to dangle it out of her reach, but he readily gave it over when she held out her hand.

"Say thank you," Eric said, the tone of his voice matching his look. Diana was torn between slapping him and expressing her thanks, but the snarling and the sounds of pursuit had her activating her javelin's power. The soft green light glanced off the dark walls, and Diana saw their exit.

"This way," she said instead, cutting across the cellar to what looked like doors that hopefully led to an exit of some sort. She had taken maybe three steps before the doors disintegrated into a cloud of splinters, and the ugly faces and disgusting odor of Orcs flooded through.

Instantly, Diana charged, taking down the first two Orcs through the door. She ducked under the reach of another and brought her javelin down hard on its head. Then in a smooth transition, she planted the staff to the floor and swung around on it, knocking out two others with her powerful legs.

Eric stood, dumbly watching her. Every nerve in his body told him to get the heck out of there, but something was stopping him. A loud noise from behind had him whirling around and facing more Orcs coming down a small, narrow passageway. He cringed noticeably.

"We've got a problem!" he called over his shoulder. He heard Diana grunt.

"I'm a little busy here," she answered him testily. But he couldn't waste any more time standing around with his thumb up his butt, so Eric made a stupid decision.

_I'm such an idiot,_ he thought grimly, as he activated his shield and rushed the Orcs before they could clamor out of the passageway. He slammed into the leader's chest, heard a crunch and a whimper of pain, and pushed harder. The Orcs pressed bodily forward, staunchly resisting Eric's pushing. Hunching and shifting his shoulders, Eric dug his toes into the ground, but was slipping backwards nevertheless. The metal footgear left deep furrows; Eric saw that he was losing more ground than he could afford.

He checked on Diana from the corner of his eyes. The Orc bodies piled around her and more were added as she leapt and whirled. But Eric noticed that she moved unsteadily, barely dodging an enormous battleaxe. It was then he knew that she had yet to recover fully from her head wound. This realization gnawed at him. He could not hold off the Orcs in the stairs forever, and what if…

The rest of his fear was played out as he watched Diana take a mighty hit and fall limply to the floor. Her javelin bounced and rolled out of her hand. The Orc she'd been fighting grunted in malevolent glee and stepped over.

Something snapped in Eric. A sort of clarity sharpened his focus, and his nervousness, fear, and any self-preservation evaporated. In one swift move, Eric planted his feet and crouched down. The leader fell forward onto the shield, and Eric heaved, using his legs and back as a spring. The Orc flew across the cellar and crashed into the one standing over Diana. Eric's attention was already on the four left in front of him.

He swung his fist and nailed one right in the crotch. At first the Orc didn't know how to react, and the momentary pause was enough that Eric was able to swing his shield around and knock him out. A sword clanked heavily to the ground, and Eric flipped it up using his foot. Deftly he caught it in his free hand, readying himself for the imminent. He circled around, familiarizing himself with the weapon.

And although the sword was crude and unwieldy, Eric was able to use it. _All those years of fencing lessons are actually paying off_, he thought with dark surprise. _If only dear ole Dad could see me now._ He watched carefully as the three Orcs spread out, intending to surround him in a classic pincher move.

Thinking quickly, Eric tucked and rolled to the side, managed not to cut himself to pieces, and came up behind one to his left. He cracked the hilt of the sword across that one's skull, and he fluidly deflected an attack from one of the others with his shield. While he was engaged, Eric saw the remaining one move toward Diana.

Grunting, Eric parried, clipping the Orc in the hand. The Orc's sword dropped, clattering noisily, but already the Orc was reaching for the knives at his belt. Thinking quickly, Eric attacked, and as the Orc dodged his blade, he stuck his foot out and tripped up the huge creature. The Orc crashed on two of his fellows, and Eric didn't hesitate to use the hilt again.

A grunt turned him toward Diana. She was on her feet, but leaning heavily on the javelin, the remaining Orc sprawled in front of her.

"Glad to see _you're _still here," she said, managing to muster up some sarcasm. Eric let the sword fall from his hand, clanging on the floor like discarded dinnerware. He hated the feel of it.

"Yeah, well, somebody's gotta save your cute butt," he replied, already stepping over to her, smirk in place.

It was then that Eric caught a flash of metal to the side. It was one of those instances where he didn't need to think, he only moved, half-twisting, half-diving at Diana.

_Whatever is going to hit me_, Eric thought vaguely, _is going to hurt. A lot._

**A/N:** I don't know about you, but I laughed my head off when Eric punched the Orc in the balls. Haha, classic. See ya next time!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hello, everyone! Thanks for all your wonderful, kind words and your sturdy support. This chapter is what I call a transition chapter. Trying to get a bunch of people from point A to point B without a whole lot of filler is difficult! Anyway, please enjoy.

**The Silver Veil**

**Chapter VII.**

I.

"This whole place has got to be a dream," Presto said as he traced patterns on the tablecloth lazily. He, Hank, Sheila, and Bobby were seated around the dining room table. After their initial shock at discovering a portal home and finding that Venger wasn't around to destroy it, they had heard a loud _dong_ from the downstairs. Upon arriving in the dining room, they had found a large feast spread on the table, steaming hot and tantalizing.

Nobody hesitated or questioned. Everyone piled food on his or her plate and tucked in. Everything was absolutely delicious. The only sounds were the scrapping of knives and forks on plates and the occasional grunt or moan of approval. Presto probably hadn't eaten this well since King…king…? What was his name? Well, King-_something_ had taken them under his wing. Then, without anyone saying anything, the main course vanished and in its place appeared dessert!

Afterwards, everyone was too stuffed to even move. Presto had broken the complacent silence that had settled on the feasters.

"If this _is_ a dream, don't wake me up," Bobby replied as he rubbed his eyes.

"What are we going to do about…um," Sheila trailed off, and for some reason, couldn't think of what she wanted to say. Two faces were vivid in her mind, and their names were at the tip of her tongue. Who were they again? She hesitated for a moment as she searched her memory. _D-something…Denise? Dana? Diana! Eric!_ She had them again. Sheila suddenly felt worried that she would forget their names again.

"What are we going to do about Eric and Diana?" she blurted, rushing her words together so she sounded like Bobby. They all turned toward Hank.

Their leader was thinking the same thing, although he felt like his mind was drifting away. Here they had a way home and every comfort they desired. The only problem was that those two were missing. But how to solve the problem?

"I suppose we should wait or try and find a way to bring them here," Hank suggested, slowly. It seemed that after all the good food and activity, Hank could hardly think.

"Aw, can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm...auuugh…so sleepy," Bobby yawned, stretching his arms out. When Hank glanced around the table, the rest of the group was yawning, and eyelids drooped conspicuously.

"I suppose we could use the rest," Hank acknowledged. The empty dishes and the leftovers vanished from the tabletop as the weary group trundled up the stairs.

Bedtime was an unusual affair. After months of not having a bathroom to use, everyone had to get used to the running water, the toothpaste, and especially the clean linens. Hank had suggested that everyone keep his or her door open, just in case. The lights clicked off in all the rooms that were being used.

"Good night, everybody!" Sheila called, snuggling down under the covers.

"Good night!" everybody replied in tandem. Soon after, the only sounds in the silent house were the soft breathing and snores of young adults in repose.

II.

"At last! The Magician's Hat!" Venger exulted, lifting the desired artifact high above his head. The charred body of a once-living and breathing creature smoked gently at Venger's robe hems. Kaladex's resistance was a pittance that Venger had overcome easily.

All that was left was to obtain custody of the Acrobat and Cavalier, then to discover the whereabouts of the rest of the Young Ones. The Ranger, Thief, Magician, and Barbarian had seemingly fallen off the face of the Realm.

The thought paused him. Perhaps that was what the problem was. What if, by chance, the other Young Ones had left the Realm and returned to their precious Earth? The Magician was incompetent enough that a happy accident like that could have occurred. That would explain why the Acrobat and the Cavalier had been left behind. And if the Magician had indeed opened a portal to his home world, it would be reasonable to assume that the spell could be replicated.

Venger mounted his Nightmare and pressed the demon horse to the skies. First things first: he needed to take care of the Acrobat and Cavalier.

But when he arrived back at his lair, unfortunate news awaited him.

"THEY WHAT?" he screamed furiously at Shadow Demon, who was cringing in a corner.

"Th…they def-f-f-feated the i-i-i-nitial Orc soldiers," Shadow Demon repeated. He had been human, his saliva would have dried up in his mouth.

"WHERE ARE THEY NOW?" Venger thundered.

"OH, _My Lord_, _the Hat_!" Shadow Demon interrupted, pointing at a nearby table. In his fury, several bottles of potions cracked under the strain of Venger's palpable anger. Other bottles had sparked, and several shot baby flares at the Hat, which was residing peacefully on the same table, catching it on fire. Immediately, Venger used his hands to rain water onto the burning cloth. When the mage picked it up, scorch marks marred the green material, but it was not seriously damaged.

"Where…are…they…now?" Venger asked again, deliberately calm as he plucked at the Hat. He felt Shadow Demon back away before answering him.

"The Acrobat and the Cavalier are southbound. To where, I do not know."

Venger scowled. What was in the south that attracted his two enemies? Besides this, which was most important? Discovering the whereabouts of the other Young Ones, or knowing what the Cavalier and Acrobat desired in the South?

"Shadow Demon, I have a new mission for you," Venger said, fangs protruding in a devilish smile.

III.

He couldn't believe what a dope he was.

Eric had separated Diana from certain…armor?

He lay entangled, long arms and legs encumbered with rusty metal, glaring balefully at the giggling girl standing over him, disbelieving his shot luck. It was just what he needed. First he nearly died from an explosion. Then he nearly died when he was attacked by Venger's foot soldiers, and now he had nearly died from the suit of metal crushing him to the stone floor.

"Nice to see _you're_ feeling better," he muttered, shifting under the burdensome load so that he could climb to his feet. The armor clattered heavily around on the floor as he dug for his shield, grumbling the whole time.

"Oh, _Eric_!" Diana said between peals of laughter in mock distress. "I'm _so_ _scared_! Save me from that terrifying suit of _armor_!"

"Ha-ha-ha," Eric said humorlessly, tempted to chuck a bit of shoulder-guard her way. Looking from the doubled-over Acrobat to the hefty chunk of metal, Eric decided against it. It wasn't worth the effort. His feathers more than ruffled, he pushed by her and climbed out of the dank cellar to the semi-darkness outside where he could still hear her laughing.

Evidently the Elgatos had repelled the Orc attack. The hysteria and died away, and the pandemonium that now occurred was organized. Triumph had settled on the air like the heavy ashes still coating the underground with a grey frosting. There was an overwhelming smell of burning wood, like a campfire gone wrong, and the occasional crack and burst of a home collapsing in on itself.

Eric turned slightly when Diana appeared out of the broken cellar doorway. She was wiping tears of mirth out of her eyes. He made an annoyed sound and crossed his arms snobbishly.

Across the circular courtyard, an envoy was emptying from the main street. Eric and Diana, by sight, knew that it was De'Riha. Both of them prayed she was ready to let them go. Both of them shifted closer, drawing strength from the other, and remained silent and watching as De'Riha, surrounded by her honor guards, approached to a stop in front of them.

"You have done well to protect the Elgatos from certain doom. But it is obvious that the Orc want _you_. We cannot allow you to stay here, but we cannot turn a blind eye to your plight. You may have one request of us, and then you must leave," she said purringly, her large green eyes catching and flashing with the firelight.

"We must confer privately," Eric replied with as much pomp as the queen Elgato. He pulled Diana a bit away before whispering in her ear. She hated how she wanted his hand on her arm to stay, how his soft breath at her ear sent shivers down her back and started butterflies in her stomach. _Stop it,_ she commanded.

Eric: "What do we ask them for?"

"I dunno. How about supplies?"

A pause.

"Supplies would be good, but we know Venger is after us. We could use some help."

Incredulousness: "Yeah, but what are we gonna do? Say, can you lend us your army? Yeah, right, Eric."

"Hey, it was just a suggestion. We don't even know where this silver veil thingy is. We _could _use a guide to get us to the Pool of Reflections."

Another pause, longer this time.

"I see your point. It wouldn't hurt to ask," Diana replied, eying the patiently waiting Queen and her guard. They broke confidence and stepped in front of the group once again. Eric cleared his voice, suddenly nervous under all the sharp, observant eyes.

"We wish for a small party to guide us to the Pool of Reflections," he announced grandly. The queen stroked her chin, considering his offer. Her lip twitched.

"Very well. You shall depart within the hour with four of my best Elgatos. They will escort you where you desire."

It was done as De'Riha said.

As they exited the underground cavern, southward toward the Pool of Reflections, Eric had a sudden chill rip down his spine. They were being watched, but when he cautiously glanced around, no eyes were seen. He hated that feeling.

**A/N: **Ack. Disgustingly short, I know. Please be patient, more action from Eric and Diana is on its way, I promise! Otherwise, drop a line a let me know how I'm doing. Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **I'm back! This chapter is the last of the 'transition period,' so to speak. More action and hard-core fight scenes to come! Please enjoy.

**The Silver Veil**

**VIII.**

I.

The farmer's son and the small group of thieves made their way further north. The land became desolate and cold, and the road was perilous and rugged. The weather had held for the traveling band so far, but a sudden blizzard had them stopping in an abandoned inn.

The inn was drafty, but shelter enough against the roaring and whipping winds of the north. The farmer's son and the thieves built a fire in the fireplace and began preparing supper, scant as it was.

There came a knock at the door. When the farmer's son opened it, there was a family, huddled together under a blanket against the cold.

"Please, sir. Please let us in your company. We have been caught in this blizzard and will surely freeze without shelter," the father pleaded. The farmer's son saw that it was true.

"It will be our pleasure to entertain you," the farmer's son said, stepping aside for the family. "We have but little food, but we will certainly share what we have."

The thieves accompanying the farmer's son had grown use to his soft heart, and so moved aside for the family to get closer to the hearth. The wife had been covering two children, a young boy and a younger girl. The little girl was crying from hunger and cold, and no amount of comforting from the mother would assuage her.

The farmer's son, who had whittled a likeness of his beloved princess out of some discarded wood, gave it to the little girl, who had never seen such a beautifully crafted figurine.

"This is the beautiful princess who is locked up in a tall, tall tower," he began, and told the little girl the entire story, freeing her mind from her gnawing hunger and chilled limbs. By this time, food was simmering in the pot, and bowls were found, luckily enough, in the old cupboards of the inn.

"I know of the witch of whom you speak," said the father. "She lives but just a little ways north of the village that we are traveling to."

"Ah," said the farmer's son. "That is well. We shall travel together, then, and make our way there safely."

II.

Several days passed as Eric, Diana, and the four Elgatos traveled southward. The weather was fair, and thanks to the Elgatos, food was plentiful. Eric hadn't eaten this well since what seemed like months ago. His wounds had healed and so he was able to move comfortably. Diana seemed to be in high spirits, too, and softly hummed off-key as they walked steadily on, irritating Eric, so he causally engaged her in conversation.

Two of the Elgatos who'd been chosen were the two that had escorted Eric to the palace. They were deep in conversation at the front of the line, using their native tongue to discuss 'private' matters. Eric and Diana had not gone unnoticed by them.

"Are they mates, then?" asked the one Eric named Puss in Boots.

"Seems that way, but I don't think they are," replied the older one. He was using his spear as a walking stick. He hadn't done this much traveling in many years, and he could feel the stiffness in his joints. He winced as his knee gave a complaint.

"That's weird. They look at each other as if they are," Puss in Boots mentioned, kicking aside a small stone that was in his way.

"Maybe they don't realize that they _should_ be mates," mused the older one. He sniffed the air cautiously, thinking he'd caught something on the light breeze, but it was gone. "It's not what you hear in our fairy tales, Sh'Gyra. Humans are complicated. A pair can hate and love one another at the same time, I've heard."

"How can a pair love _and_ hate one another? That's the stupidest thing I've heard," Sh'Gyra answered disdainfully. He glanced over his shoulder. The two humans were marching alongside one another, each ignoring the other. But not five minutes ago they had had a spirited discussion over something called a movie, which ended with the one called Eric telling the female that her 'taste in movies was obscenely bad.' She'd probably had given him a good-sized bruise on that pale hide of his when she'd punched him square in the shoulder.

"And why were _we_ chosen for this _mission_, anyway? Aren't there plenty of other Elgatos who could've done this?" he continued, complaining loudly so that the other two of his kindred would overhear. His senior glanced sharply in his direction.

"Because we failed to subdue the female one adequately," he replied to Sh'Gyra.

"Hey!" called Eric. "What're you two talking about?"

_This Eric_, thought Sh'Gyra darkly, _is more curious than a kitten. And too suspicious for his own good._

"It's getting on evening," he answered. "We were discussing a good campsite."

"Sure you were," Eric replied sarcastically, earning him a pinch from Diana.

"Shut up," she told him harshly, not wanting any bad feelings between Eric and _their_ _guides_ to get in the way of their mission.

A sudden roar startled Elgato and human alike. The noise of it was inhuman, and all half-thought that Venger had found them. The plains were drowned in the thunder of yet another roar, and at they all realized that it was a roar of frustration and perhaps desperation, not of the triumph.

"I don't like the sound of that," Eric said, cringing behind his shield. Whatever it was sounded hungry, mad, or both.

"This way," Diana said, leading the group toward a hill to the side of the path they were following. The roaring continued, and as they neared the hill, it became louder, shaking loose silt from the dusty hill onto the Elgatos and humans. The six crested the hill and gazed down, each trying to take in the enormity of what they saw.

"What…what _is_ it?" Eric asked, not quite believing his eyes, but still expecting it to be the truth nonetheless. He had long since stopped being surprised at the odd creatures found in this Realm hell.

"That would be a bear turtle," answered Sh'Gyra, in awe of the huge animal, as was Eric and Diana. "They were said to be extinct from these parts."

The bear turtle was as big as a house, no exaggeration. The shell was green and craggy, exactly as a turtle's shell should be, and the head of the creature looking like a Colorado grizzly bear only about ten times the size. It roared again as it tried thrashing forward, to get _any_where, but it could not budge from the spot.

Diana looked to the bear turtle's hind leg. She saw a gleam of metal and made out a chain snaking in the dirt, and maybe some sort of trap that had caught the bear turtle's leg. Smaller, crying bleats brought her attention to the creature's side. There, nestled next to the adult bear turtle, were three baby bear turtles. Diana's heart squeezed painfully.

"It's a mother, and look, her young," she said, pointing to the baby bear turtles.

"Um, that thing doesn't look too happy," Eric interjected, having a feeling that he knew what Diana wanted to do and disagreeing with her with every fiber of his being. For once, the Elgatos agreed with him.

"Bear turtles are dangerous creatures. Obviously they eat meat. It would be prudent to avoid contact with them," the hooded and older Elgato said. Diana didn't acknowledge his information. She was transfixed on the bear turtle cubs, pathetic without their mother, and bit her lip.

"We have to _do_ something," she whispered and started sliding down the hill on her own.

"Diana! Are you _nuts_?" Eric called from safety as Diana stepped in range of the snapping and roaring head. Razor sharp teeth came within inches of her, but she calmly stood before the mother bear turtle, not listening to the calls of caution and warning.

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm going to help you," she told it gently. She continued standing patiently, arms loose at her side. "Your young will be safe. They need you. And you need our help."

Eric was watching her commune with the animal, readying his shield to protect her from sharp teeth, completely believing that Diana had jumped off the deep end. But what did he expect? Diana had always had a soft spot in her heart for young kids and animals.

"Is she always like this?" Sh'Gyra asked Eric, and the human nodded his head.

"Sometimes _worse_."

The mother bear turtle calmed, as a hurricane does within its eye. She seemed to realize her plight and that this other creature wasn't doing her young any harm. Cautiously she sniffed Diana, lowering her roar to a soft growl, and eventually that faded away as well. Diana reached out her hand, slowly, so as not to startle the mother, and stroked her mighty head.

"We'll get you out, I promise," she whispered lovingly. It was just like with her dog Kasey. She'd found Kasey behind a dumpster with a litter of young. She'd been abandoned and was lean from malnutrition and exposure. Kasey nearly bit Diana's hand off when Diana came near. But Diana had been patient, she'd understood Kasey's fear, and she'd been truthful. Eventually Kasey let Diana near her enough so that she could feed her and stroke the pups. Diana had contacted the animal control agency, and eventually Kasey became her pet.

Diana waved the others over now that the bear turtle was subdued; everyone beheld Diana with a degree of awe that was slightly overshadowed by the awe from the bear turtle. There was something special about her that she could calm a huge, angry creature like that with a few simple words. The Elgatos especially respected her now, and did as they were told as Diana inspected the trap.

The trap was a simple spring-affair, much like the toothy bear and wolf traps that Diana had seen in her grandfather's shed. The bear turtle had been caught for a while: her hind leg was matted and crusty with dried blood, but it didn't seem like the trap had set very deep into the flesh. If they treated it properly, the mother would have a scar and little to no lameness.

"Eric and that Elgato beside you! Grab some sturdy sticks of wood. We're going pry open this trap," Diana commanded, pointing at Eric and Sh'Gyra. Eric rolled his eyes and crossed his arms defiantly, his displeasure at being bossed around evident, but besides this, he _still_ didn't agree with Diana's idea. He was resolved, and he wasn't getting anywhere _near_ that bear-turtle monster. Cubs or not, no way.

"You're kidding," he said. "What's this got to do with our _mission_?"

He should have kept his big mouth shut. Diana strolled over to him, mouth set, eyes hard. Her hand flew to the top of his breastplate and wretched him forward so their faces were inches apart. Eric acutely noticed flecks of gold in Diana's brown eyes.

"Next time you're hanging off a cliff, I'll be sure to say that to _you_," she growled at him, jerking him so that she made sure her point was clear. It was. Crystal clear. But Eric's pride solidified his courage and knitted his eyebrows.

"If we stop for every damn thing that needs our help, we're never gonna get to Hank and the others," he told her patiently, working her stiff hand with his so that it eased its grip on his breastplate. She relinquished her grip reluctantly, her chin still set with her anger; he kept her hand in his to run his thumb over her knuckles. "We don't have time for this."

His words and touch almost placated her, like a bowl of ice cream when she was upset. But this was something she could do _now_, not wait until how many more days to do anything. Besides this, she would regret not doing anything if she could help, and she refused to be regretful of anything. She put her free hand on Eric's shoulder, letting her anger fly out of her like a bird flies from the nest.

"I have to help, and I want you with me," she said, her tone soft and pleading. The change in him was perceptible, his face contorting and shifting as her words hit him. She was left wondering when he became so pliable. Eric had always been difficult to convince, and compared to normal, she'd talked him into it with relative ease. _What is going on with him?_ she wondered abstractly. _What's going on with _me_?_

"Fine. But don't cry to me when this thing kills us," he acquiesced, sighing. His answer so delighted her that she pecked him on the cheek. The action surprised them both, and they turned away from one another, slight embarrassment tinting their cheeks. Sh'Gyra gave a poignant glance to his mentor, who only shrugged in response.

As it turned out, Diana's plan worked perfectly. Eric and Sh'Gyra scrounged up some braches which were good enough, and after much prying and shoving and wiggling, the three managed to spread the jaws of trap open, while the other two slipped the bear turtle's leg free. It was exhausting work.

By the time a campfire was lit and dinner made, everyone was ready to call it a night. The bear turtle and her cubs stayed with them, mainly because Diana had taken special care of the mother's leg and had made sure the cubs were fed an equal share of food. The cubs were friendly fellows, engaging the Elgatos and Eric and Diana in their tumbling, amusing play as the mother scavenged for food around the area.

The next morning, after a hard night's sleep, the small party waved the mother bear turtle and her cubs away as they parted company. Diana got a little sloppy. She supposed that missing Hank, Sheila, Bobby, Presto, and Uni was taking its toll on her emotionally.

"Geez, who turned on the waterworks?" Eric asked lamely when he caught a glimpse of Diana's tears.

"Sh…shut uh…up," Diana answered brokenly and put her face into the crook of his neck when he reached around and pulled her into him. He squeezed her gently.

"You know, you were right," he told her resignedly. Diana sniffled and couldn't manage a reply. "It _was_ better to help."

Between her disbelief that Eric was comforting her and her disbelief that Eric was actually admitting she was right, Diana wasn't quite sure what was going on with her companion. Something was definitely changing between them, and she wasn't sure if it was something she liked.

As they walked, Diana slid her hand into Eric's, testing. He made no indication of her experiment, only closed his hand around hers. Diana was left wondering why she couldn't let go after he'd done that.

**A/N:** Next chapter: we find out what Venger's up to, and we take a peek into the Hat's house. Let me know how I'm doing and review, thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Another chapter for your reading pleasure. Thanks again for all your support. I can't believe how many views on this thing I've gotten! Anyway, please enjoy.

**The Silver Veil**

**IX.**

I.

Presto _finally_ had the whole house to himself. Sheila and Hank, whenever Bobby wasn't around, made out with gusto. Bobby and Uni played loudly, stomping up and down the stairs, screaming and bleating at the top their lungs when they weren't screaming and bleating outside around the house. He couldn't go anywhere without stumbling on one of the others. All he wanted to do was practice his magic tricks or read peacefully.

And he was sick of doing those things in the confines of his room, was that so much to ask? As he was contemplating, he passed by a closed door that hadn't been opened since…_since when_? Presto wasn't sure if that door had _ever_ been opened since he and the others had gotten there. Which was…_a couple days ago? A week?_ He wasn't sure of the date, but shrugged it off. The door was calling his attention, and he was too curious to ignore it.

Cautiously, almost afraid of what he might find, Presto turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. He sighed when he found just a regular room.

Inside, as if it had always been there, was a room with navy and green wallpaper, heavy bookcases of leather-bound books, and a wide, four-poster bed. A thick, dark-wooded desk manned one side of the room, and several brass statues decorated flat surfaces.

Presto's eyebrows crunched together in his confusion. _Whose room is this?_ Presto took a minute or two to open all the doors along the hallway, but it only served to confound him further. _Hank's is there; Sheila and Bobby's, Uni's, mine…there're two extra rooms?_ He wasn't sure who he was missing. As far as he'd known, it had only ever been himself, Uni, Hank, Sheila, and Bobby.

But why were there two extra rooms? Something was niggling at the back of his mind…_that's going to annoy me all day!_

Grumpily, because he couldn't think of it, Presto shut all the doors_. Who is supposed to be in those rooms? _ Two figures came flitting from the recesses of his mind. One was dark, the other pale. He vaguely remembered one was a female, and one was male. Presto rummaged around in his mind, stopping to look outside a window. The fresh green color reminded him…something about a hat of some sort was back there as well. He had also been having strange feelings about this place, like there was something wrong, or that he didn't belong there.

However, try as he might, no further memories came within his grasp. He threw himself into the recliner, the only piece of furniture in the room that Hank and Sheila _hadn't_ made use of, and flipped open his book to read. Presto's notions and slippery memory were forgotten by the fifth word.

II.

"They are coming, Lord Venger!" Shadow Demon exclaimed excitedly from his post. His master's plan was beautiful, flawless. This time, the Young Ones would be captured, Shadow Demon was sure of it. The molecules that made up his vaporous form condensed and contracted in his enthrallment.

"_Silence_," Venger commanded, grabbing Shadow Demon by his tail. "Disappear and follow closely. As soon as we know the whereabouts of the others, send forth the army."

"Yes, Master," answered Shadow Demon, minding the volume of his voice. He disappeared into rocks and became lost in a shadow that overhung the pathway. Venger patted his face with soil and mussed his hair. He even tore his clothing a little and scratched his hairline to cause blood to leak down his face.

It was difficult for him to wipe off his malicious smile as he situated himself across the pathway.

_Any moment now,_ he thought, forcing his face into feigned unconsciousness. _They will be mine!_

III.

Diana grabbed Eric's arm with a soft gasp when they turned the bend in the road. They had successfully crossed the plains and were now in a canyon of sorts, except the walls were very near together so that at some points, the Elgatos and Eric had to turn sideways to fit through. The lead Elgato said that since the canyon was so narrow and tall, they would have to camp at designated sites. One was ahead of them now, opening up like an oasis in the middle of sharp rock. Lying sideways across the path was a human with a shock of blond hair, wearing the green of a ranger.

"That's…Hank!" Diana had never been so certain of a fact before. How long had her thoughts dwelled on the others? All her tightly controlled emotions surged to the surface, and she made to go over to him immediately, as Hank was motionless. "He's hurt!"

"_Wait_," Eric hissed beside her, extending an arm to bar her from going any further. Diana rounded on Eric furiously, from worried to angry in two seconds flat.

"What's the matter with you?" she snarled, readying some acidic remarks to ward him off. He must have sensed her high ire because he lowered his arm and kept his voice controlled when he answered.

"Listen. We _think_ that's Hank," he told her, turning to face her. "We don't where he's been or what he's been doing."

His words were ominous, and they broke her anger to pieces. Silently, Diana considered them as she chewed her lip. She could not deny the logic in Eric's reasoning, but he had _always_ been paranoid. _What if it's a false alarm?_

"But what if it _is_ him?" she asked finally, folding her arms together, disliking the way her stomach churned like butter.

"It still could be a trap," Sh'Gyra mentioned, he and the others having listened to the conversation so far. Eric nodded and looked again at the prone figure, calculating for a long moment. During that time, Diana had a hard time preventing herself from running to Hank's side. Finally Eric stepped around.

"Okay. We have to be careful," he told them lowly. He pulled the cuffs of his gloves, making sure his fingers were snug and tight in them. "None of us mention where we're going or what we're doing until we know for sure, _comprende_?"

Diana frowned, feeling ridiculous for suspecting Hank. _But he had betrayed them before…although he was doing it for Bobby_. It was only natural for Eric to feel like Hank would be involved in something after being out of contact for so long.

"You three," Eric continued, pointing at Diana, who continued to waffle, Sh'Gyra, and another Elgato, "stay behind. The rest of us will go to the clearing. If it's a trap, at least we'll have some back-up."

Diana opened her mouth to protest, but everyone was already doing what Eric had told them. It was strange to see Eric acting like an adult. _When did he grow up?_ _And besides that_, she thought as she eyed him, _why am I.._.?

Her thought cut off as Eric turned, caught her staring, and winked at her. Diana was mortified, but under that her heart leapt in her chest. She felt her cheeks burn and hustled out of his sight to hide. Why was she even thinking about that? Hank was sprawled in the middle of a clearing, possibly dead, and she was thinking about Eric. Abruptly she stopped and her whole body went numb.

_This can't be possible,_ she thought, realizing what it probably meant. Hadn't she promised never to forget Kosar? Hadn't she sworn to herself that she would only reserve herself for him? She was a traitor if she felt this way about Eric. A liar. But she couldn't help comparing her feelings for Eric with her feelings for Kosar and seeing very clearly that the feelings for Eric were different. A sudden, swooping dizziness clouded her vision, and she leaned against the hot rock to try grounding herself.

_The feelings _are_…different and…deeper. Stronger. Oh, God! How did this happen?_ How had she fallen in love with Eric, too? And not only that, but harder, making her passion for Kosar seem like a very small drop in a very large pool. A hard vision slapped her across the face, an anxiety she dared not give a voice to: Eric, limp, colorless, dark red blood seeping from his chest, his eyes sightless. Her fingernails scraped uselessly across the rock, the physical pain preventing her from crying out from the horrifying image.

Then she realized. When Kosar had left, and the memory panged in her heart still, she'd lived. She'd been sad and miserable, but she had survived. But at the mere inclination of Eric dying, her whole body clenched together like a fist. _His_ death would kill her, she had no doubt.

And there he was, prancing out into the middle of a clearing into a possible trap. Her body moved on its own, both reaching for her javelin and stepping forward, but was restrained by a soft, furry hand.

"Stay here," the older Elgato, whose name, she thought, was something like Ra'Veath. She made a vague hand motion.

"I-"

"Stay. Here," he repeated and guided her back around the outcrop of rock where he and the second Elgato were hiding. Reluctantly she did so, and watched with growing trepidation as Eric and the rest of the Elgatos cautiously entered the clearing.

The first to reach Hank was Eric, who crouched next to the ranger, waving at the other two to back off. They did so, and Diana had a perfect view of Eric rolling Hank over. As Hank's head flopped about, Diana caught a glimpse of red, tracing down Hank's strong face. Her intuition had proved correct; he had been hurt.

She saw Eric's mouth form words, but was unable to hear or discern what he said. Several long moments passed before Eric said something to the other Elgatos and helped Hank sit up. The two Elgatos spread out, stepping behind and peering into possible hiding places. When the clearing had been searched to Eric's satisfaction, and none of Venger's baddies popped out, Eric waved towards them, indicating it was safe to come out.

Diana hadn't realized how tight she'd been holding her javelin. Her hands were stiff and marked with the nicks and dents her javelin molded into her skin. Walking, then running, Diana covered the distance quickly and knelt to Hank's side.

"Hank!"

"Diana," Hank said, with a voice that was hoarse and dry. "Finally."

Eric wrapped Hank's hand around a canteen, which Hank drank from greedily. He had a cut at his hairline, still oozing blood, and his clothes were torn and dirty. It looked like he'd been dragged and left to die. He was pale, and for some reason, his face looked different, but how, Diana didn't know.

"Easy," Eric said, stopping Hank from chugging the whole thing. Diana detached Eric's cloak and folded it so that Hank could lay back. He did so with a sigh of relief.

"Where've you been?" he asked. Eric shot Diana a meaningful glance, and she pressed her lips together to remind herself of Eric's warning.

"We were going to ask you the same," Eric answered. "Where are the others?"

"I…don't know." His face fell in disappointment, and he reached out to Diana. She took his hand, and again had that strange, displaced feeling that something was different.

"Besides that," Eric continued, and Diana was amazed that he didn't sound the slightest bit suspicious, "where's your bow?"

"The last thing I remember," Hank answered, looking first at Diana then at Eric, "was the light. When I came around, my bow was missing and so was everyone else."

"You look roughed up. Were you attacked?" Diana couldn't help but ask, taking a clean cloth from Ra'Veath to wipe away the thick red ribbon and then to press gently on the open wound. Hank swallowed.

"Things are blurry, I…may have been," he said. Diana glanced to Eric, who wore his customary scowl, and was staring hard down on the ranger with what Diana assumed was puzzlement. Because she was studying him, she saw the puzzlement change to consternation.

Eric stood suddenly and made no further comment other than telling her to wait when she grabbed his hand as he passed, wanting to know what he was thinking. Eric looked down at her, eyes and face full of an emotion she'd never seen before. Instinctively, Diana released him when he gently touched her face as if he was telling her to trust him, before he left and engaged Sh'Gyra in conversation. Her skin continued tingling where he had smoothed her skin, and she started when Hank shifted. She'd forgotten about him.

"Where's he going?" he asked her. Diana shrugged and continued watching Eric.

"Probably to harangue the Elgatos," she said, as Eric guided Sh'Gyra around another rock outcrop, out of sight. Even if she didn't know what he was doing, she knew when Eric was up to something. _I wonder what?_

"Have you spoken to Dungeon Master?" Hank drew her full attention with his question. Their eyes locked, and Diana's insides squirmed unpleasantly. She was angry at her reaction, as there was no reason to be doubtful, but the feeling persisted, pricking her like little pins at the back of her mind.

"You should rest. We'll talk more tomorrow," Diana answered, skirting his question. She didn't want to lie to him and avoiding the subject seemed the right thing to do in regards to Eric's wishes. Hank's eyes glinted, turning hard in the fading light. Momentarily, she worried he would pursue the subject, but he did not, and she was left wondering if Eric was right, or if all this cloak and dagger secrecy was pointless.

IV.

Shadow Demon overheard the following conversation between the Cavalier and an Elgato.

Cavalier: _(looking around nervously)_ How far is it to, ahem, _town_?

Elgato: About two days. Why?

Cavalier: Look, I don't trust our friend. There's something fishy about him. What I'm gonna do is sneak off and go to _town_ for our _special object_. You keep the others on this route.

Elgato: _(understanding)_ I see. So if your friend is an informant…

Cavalier: Exactly. I'll have what we need to get our friends back, and he won't know the difference.

Elgato: How do we justify your leaving?

Cavalier: I'm going for more supplies, and I'll meet the rest of you later on.

Elgato: Will you need a guide?

Cavalier: No. Write down the directions. (_Handing the Elgato a paper pad and pencil)_ When I get there, I'll just grab the _special object_, free my friends, and make my merry way back. Piece of cake.

Elgato: You're sure about this?

Cavalier: _(lifting his hand in a dismissive manner) _How hard can it be?

This was what Shadow Demon related to Hank later that night, when they met and conversed a measured distance from the small group. Hank, in a very Venger-like manner, grinned malevolently.

"Very well. We shall follow him. You accompany me and move the army as we go. When this Cavalier frees his friends, we'll be ready."

**A/N:** That's it for now, folks. Please tell me what you think! And by the way, I was reading over some previous posted chapters, and I discovered some errors…but then when I looked at the document, there weren't any errors in the document. Two words: weird and frustrating. Okay, that's enough randomness, I'm off the type the next chapter, see ya then!


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Hi, welcome back. Thanks again for all the terrific comments and helpful criticism. Before we begin, I just wanted to explain something very briefly: the Elgatos use the formal, polite suffix 'el' (pronounced like the letter) to address Diana and Eric, almost like 'san' in Japanese. That's it. Enjoy, please.

**The Silver Veil**

**X.**

I.

Oh, how his ideas were always terrible in retrospect. Everything went according to plan until Hank turned into Venger, like some sick, poorly shot sci-fi movie where the human melts into an alien with lasers for eyes. Why, why, _why_ did it have to be ole horn-head? Couldn't he have disguised one of his minions as Hank?

Eric suspended his speculation as he ducked a lightening bolt that tore through the house behind him. He suppressed a cough and waved away the dust that currently coated his armor. Venger was pacing furiously in the town center, blasting away building after building.

"CAVALIER! I WILL FIND YOU!" _Not if I can help it_, Eric thought, eying a grate in the street next to him.

Speaking of Venger donning a Hank costume, he'd known, just _known_ that Venger was conniving and cunning enough to try to pull a trick like that. As soon as he'd rolled 'Hank' over, Eric had felt the difference, but he'd decided to make _sure_ his hunch was correct. And talk about a load of bullshit with 'All I remember is the light' and 'I was attacked.' It had been the flimsiest lie Eric had heard, _ever_. That's when he implemented this harebrained plan. _Sometimes I'm so stupid…_

But his stupidity worked because Venger _still_ didn't know where Diana and the others were going. Pausing in his musing, Eric jimmied the grate open and cringed considerably from the vile odor that wafted from the open hole. _Christ, I'm gonna suffocate,_ he considered darkly, but he'd rather suffocate than be barbequed, so he pinched his nose and jumped in feet first. _Cowabunga_, he thought, splashing in liquid knee-high deep and curling his toes in his boots.

The sewer, for that's what it _had_ to be, was dark and wet. Slimy. _Disgusting_. He lifted his glowing shield, casting light and shadow around the enclosed space. There was a lifted stone walkway along the wall, so Eric stepped on that to get out of the whatever-it-was that he'd landed in. Over his pounding heart and the loud whispers of disbelief that he was making his getaway, Eric stepped carefully along the underground tunnel.

_This is something for Hank,_ Eric thought dismally. The golden ranger had no problem going into the most oozing areas filled with peril and dangers beyond belief. The Ranger _enjoyed_ that kind of thing, and he probably relished the fact that Eric abhorred going along. Eric despised adventures, particularly ones that involved nearly all-powerful evil mages, other worlds, and drippy, gag-inducing sewers. Shivering with sudden goosebumps, Eric stopped to listen carefully, but only heard Venger's chilling voice as it echoed in the underground.

No, something else reached his ears. It was a cheeping, or maybe some sort of squeaking? Eric slipped in something mushy and prevented himself from falling by touching the wall. He regretted it instantly, as the cold, germy wetness soaked through the fingertips of his gloves.

"Yek," he said, flicking his hand. Then he nearly fainted with terror when he felt something scurry across his foot. That was it. He couldn't cope down here any longer. It didn't matter if Fang-face seized him. He'd been in Venger's dungeons, and they were a hundred times more preferable than this hellhole. Next opening, he was getting out, no questions asked. He wondered if Venger would torture him first, as he drifted into the darkness further.

And further.

And still further.

_This can't be happening. Why me, God? Why…_me_?_

Once again, his plan was terrible. There was no next opening, none whatsoever in the ceilings or in the walls.

Then some warbled, distorted noise stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Huh?" His voice echoed around the steady dripping that was now nearly driving him crazy. He could have sworn he heard some-

"-ic!" There it was! But it didn't echo like _his_ voice had. Maybe he was imagining things. _Maybe_…the dripping water _had_ made him loco. _This is stupid_, he thought, interrupting his speculation. He wished Diana was there. _She'd_ know what to do. Or at least, if they'd been lost together, she'd keep him company, and he'd feel mildly secure.

The hand that currently held the shield flexed; Diana had held that hand, effectively knocking him off his guard. He remembered how easily she slipped her fingers between his, how she seemed to want a response from him, but he was too surprised? Amazed? Plea-

"Eric!" the voice whispered, jerking him back to his dismal reality. Already his heart was throbbing in his chest, beating as loudly and as hard as a bass drum. Maybe humming some Led Zepplin would ease his-

"Follow the light," the voice whispered again. It sounded like it could be someone he knew, but the pitch and tone of the voice was too distorted.

"Dungeon Master?" Eric called, hoping the short dude was playing a stupid trick, but again the echo crashed around him like waves on the beach. The echo died out and silence filled in. If it _was_ that little twerp, he'd wring his wrinkly neck. Eric made a low sound in his throat, aggravated. He'd heard things, and now he was seeing things, like a little fluttering light dipping and rising in front of him. It cast a sweet, warm shimmer over the ugly tunnel walls. Itching his head, Eric pondered his options:

_1. Wander around down here until a way out is found._

_2. Wander around down here until I die._

_3. Follow the light, like the voice I wish I hadn't heard suggested, and possibly get out of here._

_4. Follow the light into Horn-head's clutches or something equally painful or worse._

Finally the Cavalier sighed. _To hell with this_. He'd follow the damned light and whatever happened, happened.

II.

"THEY _WHAT_?!" Diana shrieked, manhandling Sh'Gyra as she did so. Both fists were balled in his vest, and he had just been slammed against the side of the canyon. He hissed and curled back his lips to show a row of teeth normally found in a piranha. "_How could you let them _do_ that_?!"

"Diana-el, please release him," Ra'Veath requested, gently touching the young female's shoulder. Her head swiveled wildly. Her eyes fixed him with a glare so hard it hit him like a brick. Immediately the Elgato's hand-paw dropped as he stepped back involuntarily. Ra'Veath had the uneasy feeling that she would not be consoled…he flexed his aged digits and glanced at Sh'Gyra, who understood his meaning.

"_Where are they?_" she demanded, rounding again on Sh'Gyra. When she'd woken up this morning, both Eric and Hank had been missing from the clearing. Upon her inquiring where they were, Sh'Gyra had very calmly told her that Eric had left, and Hank had followed. It confused and infuriated her, especially since Eric had his suspicions about Hank. Not only that, but _why_ hadn't he told her or said goodbye or…

The younger Elgato had ceased snarling and instead gripped her arms, bringing her to reality.

"Please trust us, as Eric-el has," he told her. Diana cocked her head, not clear on what Sh'Gyra meant by that, but before she had a chance to ask, she felt a warm pressure on the side of her neck. Still feeling surprised, Diana slumped over as her world went suddenly dark. Sh'Grya had a hold of her and lowered her carefully to the ground.

"Yikes," Ra'Veath murmured, repeating a word he'd heard from Eric in situations such as this. Sh'Gyra had a pained expression as he rubbed the back of his head.

"I can't believe there is so much strength in such a small thing," he replied. That was the second time this little human had injured him. Ra'Veath sighed and leaned down. The girl's face was pretty, even by Elgato standards, and he understood why Eric was sweet on her, and his actions to protect her only proved that.

Sh'Gyra had explained the whole situation to him and the others. Eric had suspected his friend of being a spy, and so devised a plan to create a diversion. Eric had a hunch that Shadow Demon was spying as well, and any 'secret' conversations would be overheard and reported to Venger. The Cavalier must have been correct, because when he left early in the morning, Hank followed not long after. As Eric lead the go-around, the Elgatos and Diana would rush onwards to the Pool of Reflections and gain possession of the Silver Veil.

When Sh'Gyra related the plan, he had sounded impressed. Ra'Veath and the others, anxious to get the journey over with, decided that Eric's plan was most sound and logical. However, as with any plan, there was a slight snag. And she was lying unconscious on the ground.

Sighing, Ra'Veath hoisted Diana over his shoulder. They would carry her. It had been Eric who had warned Sh'Gyra, and consequently all the Elgatos, that Diana would not go along with his plan willingly. Again, he had been correct.

"Let's get going," he grunted, as his knees cracked with exertion, rather than from Diana's slight weight. Sh'Gyra hovered, concern widening his eyes. Ra'Veath waved him away. "Don't make me feel older."

"But-" Ra'Veath cut Sh'Gyra off with a low growl. The younger Elgato backed off, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Sorry!"

Soon after, the four Elgatos moved rapidly among the narrow walls that hemmed them in. Their pace, slow before, had increased so that if Diana had been awake among them, she would not have been able to keep up, even at a full sprint. In a matter of hours, they exited the canyons and came to the Autumn Forest, where the tree leaves remained perpetually gold, red, orange, and bright yellow.

As they wound along the woodland path, Diana stirred. Ra'Veath motioned to the others to halt, and they stopped to allow her to recover on a mattress of fallen leaves. When she finally woke, woozy from the hard unconsciousness she'd succumbed to, she searched the furry faces for Eric and Hank. It was only when she didn't see them that she remembered…_Eric left, he had left and Hank had followed_…

_They left me_. Diana, rarely a crier, felt the despairing tears sting her eyes. _Why? Why had they left? It's just like…Kosar._ Angrily she pushed away Ra'Veath, who had knelt beside her worriedly and had reached out to touch her.

"Diana-el, listen," he said softly. Her stricken look had touched him deeply. She was at the edge of something painful, toeing a line that would break her to pieces if she crossed.

"NO! _You_ listen," Diana interrupted, ashamed that she was so easily upset. "They're…they're all I have. I have to find them, I have to help."

She broke off with a sob, pressing her hands to her eyes. _This is so unfair!_ Why was she the one to be left behind? And Eric going off by himself…did he have a death wish? _And what if he doesn't come back? _An icy knife plunged straight to her heart, doubling her over. Without her realizing it, Ra'Veath cradled her as she was wracked with painful sobs and suffocating anxiety.

"There, there," he comforted, as the three other Elgatos stood by helplessly. "Eric-el didn't abandon you. He left to protect you…to protect you and your friends from Venger. Right now he needs you to be strong. He needs you to find the Silver Veil before Venger catches on. You'll help him by doing what he wants you to do."

Diana sniffled and accepted the handkerchief offered by Ra'Veath. She was trembling in his arms, almost sick from the emotions that pummeled her.

"But…but what if-" she couldn't finish the sentence for the fear that closed her throat.

"Eric-el is more capable than you believe him to be. Trust him," Ra'Veath replied, stroking her hair. He had soothed his little ones' fears many times this way. A gentle touch, coupled with soft words, were enough to stop even the gravest of tears. Diana gazed at him, tearstains marring her smooth face, and nodded, breathing deeply.

"You're right," she whispered. She was stronger than this. What would Eric think of her bawling like a little kid? He would have fodder for a month, and his teasing, she imagined, would be relentless. _I can't let _that_ happen. I have to find it. I have to find it for Eric_._ And for the others_._ He's…THEY'RE…relying on me._

"Thank you," she told Ra'Veath gratefully. He had told her exactly what she needed to hear. There was a slight pause as Diana shored up her strength.

Right then, a loud snap had her twirling around. The three Elgatos, and Ra'Veath beside her, tensed, slowly drawing their weapons. None of them had stepped on a twig.

"We're…not alone," Ra'Veath murmured, readying his knives. His spear rested on the carpet of leaves; he would not have time to pick it up. Diana reached around and withdrew her javelin as she cautiously rose to her feet.

Whatever it was that would come, she was ready. Everything was on her shoulders, and she refused to fail.

**A/N:** I have the feeling that Eric's bad luck and Diana's good luck will come into play in the next chapter, although I have yet to write it. As always, let me know what you think, your thoughts and opinions are ALWAYS appreciated. Thanks, and see ya next time!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Well, here's another one. Thanks again for all the reviews, you guys are AWESOME! Please enjoy:

**The Silver Veil**

**XI.**

I.

The farmer's son, together with his traveling companions, arrived on the near doorstep of the witch for whom he had been seeking for many long weeks. Deciding that it was best if he went the rest of the way by himself, he freed the thieves and the family from his company and foraged on alone.

The hut was in the middle of a waste, where neither snow nor vegetation dared grace the landscape. The wind was constantly blowing, whipping and catching at the son's already worn clothes and cloak. He was undeterred as he knocked at the witch's door, and was promptly answered by a hunched old woman with warts and crooked twigs for fingers.

"Ay! What is it you want?" she demanded in a creaky voice. The farmer's son bowed respectfully.

"Is there a way I might share your roof and speak to you at length?" he asked. She considered him with coal-black eyes that glittered in the dim light.

"Ay! Get in, you're letting in the cold," she told him, and stood aside to let him in. The inside was as shabby as the outside, and the farmer's son waited until the old witch flicked a hand to show him his seat.

When he did sit, he was facing a window, roughly hewn from the poor stones that were held together by the witch's magic. Outside, the farmer's son thought he saw a flutter of wings, but it was gone on a second look.

"Madam witch," the farmer's son started, as the old woman was scuttling around the kitchen, and he urgently wanted what he sought. "My love is locked in a tower impossible to climb, guarded at every entrance, and desperate for freedom. I have come to ask for your help."

The witch grumped, dropping several pots in the sink before turning to face the handsome farmer's son.

"Oh, _really?_" she crowed. "You're penniless! Yet you've come from the far south, traveled a dangerous road, faced many perils, all for some _princess _in a _tower?_" After she'd said this, she cackled heartily.

"And how do you know she loves you?" she asked finally after she'd calmed some. The farmer's son sat straighter and was quite perturbed at being mocked.

"The birds told me," he answered her truthfully.

"The _birds?_" she repeated, and he nodded in confirmation.

"And why would the birds tell _you_ anything?"

"They wish for me to help free their friends from the castle," the farmer's son answered her, feeling like he was being examined inside and out by her black eyes.

"These birds have a lot of faith in you," the witch answered seriously. "And I can see why. You possess kindness and bravery, but there is one more thing that you must possess before I help you." Here she malevolently grinned, and the farmer's son had the distinct impression that the witch was evil. "And that is the capacity for sacrifice. And it so happens that you can kill two birds with one stone." She heckled softly at her turn of phrase and was pleased when the farmer's son grimaced.

"I will gladly give anything you wish," he told her finally. The old witch had been counting on that.

After he'd given her what she asked for, he waited patiently as she weaved together a veil made of her magic, silver hair. He thanked the witch, tears running down his face, and he stepped outside. The birds, watching from above, fluttered their wings around his face as the farmer's son donned the veil over his head. The veil expanded magically, giving the farmer's son grand wings to fly with. The birds flew next to him, guiding him home to the tower where his beloved princess waited for him.

When he arrived, the princess was overjoyed to see her love alive and well. But when he stepped through the window, she noticed he did not see her until she cried out. Then she realized.

The price for the veil was his eyesight. He had never even seen her, the one he loved so dearly! She burst into loud wails, lamenting his loss. But the farmer's son chuckled and smoothed her sorrowful brow.

"It was a worthwhile sacrifice," he told her simply. "Because now I am with you, my love." The princess could not argue with him, and besides that, what was done, could not be undone. Together, using the silver veil, they freed the caged birds in every room and hall of the castle, and escaped among the chaos. Then they flew away, to live happily ever after.

II.

"What…the heck…are _those?_" Diana asked Ra'Veath as she hefted her javelin menacingly. She gave a half-glance at the Elgato beside her, as her eyes were primarily occupied with the approach of about twenty multi-color puffballs rolling towards them. The other three Elgatos were in varying stages of readiness, their feline eyes assessing the danger of what looked like fuzzy bowling balls that matched the reds, yellows, oranges, and browns of the forest.

"I'm…unsure, Diana-el," Ra'Veath answered. _Great,_ Diana thought. _A fate worse than death: attack by the puffballs!_ A slight breeze shifted the autumn leaves above their heads as the creatures surrounded the small group and came to a halt a mere three feet away from them. Silence as nothing happened. Everyone seemed locked in place, hardly breathing for the anticipation.

"Choo!" One puffball popped, hopping in the air and unfurling so that eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were visible. Two long, vine-like feelers waved around, and Diana noticed the creature's perfectly round, ball-like body rested on two paws. It took everything Diana had to suppress the 'awwww' that rose in her throat.

"Fuzzles!" Ra'Veath exclaimed, lowering his daggers with obvious relief. The one who'd first unfurled, jumped and wrapped the two feelers around Ra'Veath's neck. The senior Elgato grinned widely at Diana as he scratched good-naturedly behind the large, flap-like ears. "They're perfectly friendly."

"As opposed to…?" Diana asked, shrinking her staff finally. Ra'Veath chuckled heartily as the smaller creature tickled him with its feelers.

"Fazzles. They look almost exactly like fuzzles but are known for tearing the throat out of unsuspecting travelers. Very dangerous those are," Ra'Veath answered her. Diana bit her lip, thinking of how ironic it was that such a cute creature could be bloodthirsty demon spawn.

In a chorus of choos, the rest of the fuzzles revealed themselves and started bouncing up and down, vying for attention. Diana was a favorite; she had four or five of them hanging on her arms and neck nuzzling and licking her. After all the internal abuse Diana had suffered, these little cuties were exactly what she needed.

"They are so adorable!" Diana giggled, vaguely wondering if she could possibly keep one as a pet. _Eric would love these little guys,_ she thought. Then horrified she thought: _Why did I just think of him?_ It hurt too much even picture his face. _Where is he? Is he…alive?_

Trying to stop the flooding of anxiety and worry was useless. It spilled into her thoughts and gut like a burst dam. The fuzzles, strangely enough, seemed to sense Diana's sudden sadness because more began piling on, chooing loudly, and what was more, they began rising like helium balloons. First one, then two, then five, then all of the fuzzles were floating, and with them, Diana and the Elgatos, wrapped firmly in the grips of fuzzle feelers.

"Hey! _Hey!_ What're you doing?!" Sh'Gyra growled, not happy with being lifted without his consent. "Put me down! _Put me DOWN, I say!"_

"Calm yourself, Sh'Gyra," Ra'Veath interrupted coolly. His subordinate shot him an agitated look, but ceased yelling. "They're flying us, I think."

"That's great and all, but where to?" Diana called, feeling like some sort of marionette. Ra'Veath said nothing, only giving her a shrewd look. She understood what was meant by that look.

Although not totally unconcerned with the distance to the ground, the Acrobat actively decided to pry her mind away from Eric and his obvious absence. So as they rose, she gazed at the beautiful forest accented with all those bold colors, like some painting from Picasso. The gentle swaying of trees, and the odd little furballs that were carrying her and her friends away added to the strange magnificence that seemed to permeate this Realm.

"Diana-el, look there," Ra'Veath said, pointing to some movement far below them near the border of the forest. She followed the line of his finger and discerned several striped tents and flapping flags. The icon on the flags curdled her mood.

"Venger," she spat, hating how close his minions were to the forest…and to the fuzzles. The word left a distasteful sourness in her mouth. _What is _he _doing here?_

"Choo!" the fuzzles chorused, but whether they shared in Diana and the Elgato's fear was not evident.

Eventually the fuzzles, with their passengers, floated away from the assembled troops to the deep heart of the Autumn Forest, where the trees parted to allow water to sparkle in the sun. It was only because Diana had a bird's eye view (or would that be fuzzle's eye view?) that she saw that the pool was a perfect circle. Looking down on it, it resembled a compact mirror.

"Is that the…?" she didn't finish her question, fearing a mistake but more terrified of the rising hope in her breast.

"Pool of Reflection," Ra'Veath said, completing the statement, whilst giving a small hand signal to the other Elgatos that indicated that they should be alert.

In the midst of her awe, the answer to Dungeon Master's riddle came to her like a flash of light in the dark. _Clever,_ she thought. _The veil is underneath that which reflects what is above. It's in the pool_. Upon retrospection, Diana considered this latest riddle the easiest by far since she and the others arrived here. _Maybe Dungeon Master's losing his edge?_

Gradually the fuzzles lowered everybody to the forest floor near the edge of the crystalline pool. Ra'Veath nodded to Sh'Gyra and the two others, and bade Diana to wait as they checked the area. The Elgatos disappeared in the foliage and calling back with an occasional "All clear!" After several slow, rolling moments, in which Diana swore that an eternity had passed, Ra'Veath eyed the pool and judiciously dipped in the tip of his spear. The ripples broke the shining reflection and the calm surface.

"If what you think is true, then we shall hold here and wait for your return," Ra'Veath told Diana as she watched the movement of the water. The sunlight reflected to her face, sprawling fingers of light across her steady featjres. This was it; she could feel it. The nerves pricked at that back of her neck. Her javelin was in its place, her heart and body were strong, and she was ready. Eric had laid this opportunity out on a plate for her; she could not hesitate.

Without replying, Diana stepped to the edge of the pool, moved her arms like wings to a steeple above her head, and dove promptly, crisply, into the cool water.

_This is heaven._ The water even _felt_ clean, washing at the grime and sweat that was another layer skin on Diana. Even being steeped in the weird muffled silence gave Diana a sense of purity. Wholly at peace, the Acrobat continued her descent into the heart of the pool.

_Keep kicking, keep angled._ Now her muscles strained against the water pressure. Now her lungs were aching, but she still had not reached the bottom. Now it would not be long until she would need air. _Where is it? Where's the veil?_ A small, bright sparkling caught her attention.

_What the…?_ A strange light reached up for her, causing her to do what she didn't want. She hesitated.

_Did…I…get turned around?_

Diana was sure she'd been going downwards, but a terrifying moment of disorientation slammed her. Vividly and surprisingly, she remembered Eric softly touching her jaw, his steady forwardness that had carried her this far. It occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same about her as she did him. _I want to find out what he's hiding._ At the same instance, she _didn't_ want to know. _Can't think about him now. Have to keep going._

There was nothing to do but go towards the light. A voice twittered at the dreadful irony of the statement. Perhaps she was dying? _Heh. Figures. I fight through Orc, Lizardmen, and all sorts of evil nasties and am done in by some stupid pool…_

The giddiness was drastically reduced when she shattered the surface of the water.

"Ah!" she gasped, realizing with relief that she had been swimming in the right direction after all.

The pool was no longer surrounded by the Autumn Forest or fuzzles or Elgatos, but by a green and aqua chamber. Steps in front of her led up to a pedestal, which was guarded over by a statue that loosely resembled the Virgin Mary. Light was inset around the edges of the pool, and Diana had no doubt that there was magic at work. In fact, her attuned ears picked up a gently humming, sort of like white noise.

"Well, I'll be," she said, just to say something. Her feet didn't need to be told twice to be cautious, her hands released her javelin without thought, and her body tensed, expecting something startling to happen.

Nothing did, to her great chagrin. The pedestal was covered with a clear glass much like an antique clock her mother cherished. She could clearly see the veil, folded neatly on the stone tile. Her awe had her reaching out, but the glass stopped her fingers, causing them to pile and crunch like a car wreck. It was _right there_. So close! But for all her pounding, hitting, and shifting, the glass would not budge or break.

"The veil is protected from evil hands," a soft voice said, stopping Diana in mid-punch. _I really should be more surprised,_ she considered flatly, as her eyes lifted to the protective statue she'd noticed upon arrival. It had animated, and the stone grey had faded to reveal a human-looking woman wearing draping cloth. The statue really did look like the Virgin Mary.

"But I'm _not_ evil," Diana told the statue, and a dark premonition clouded her mind. _That would be perfect,_ she thought, lifting her hands from the glass, _just perfect_._ What other obstacles must I go through?_ Somewhere in the back of her mind, maybe because the statue resembled the Virgin Mary, she remembered that one Bible lesson explaining that the right road is often the most difficult and rocky.

"That may be true," the statue replied, the feminine voice soothing, "but there are certain requirements that need to be filled."

_Hm-hm. There's always a catch…_ "I see. What requirements?"

"First, in the seeker there must be bravery. You, Child of the Stargazer, have it in quantity. Second, in the seeker there must be kindness. I have watched your kindness and your heart accomplish admirable feats. Third, in the seeker there must be great sacrifice. You have sacrificed plenty in the past, but more must be needed." Here the statue paused, and the glass covering the veil spread with light, dimmed, and caused Diana to back off with a gasp.

"Fourth, the seeker must choose one whom they love to return and stand with them to activate the powers of the veil. This one will fulfill both the third and fourth requirements, should you choose to continue in your endeavor."

The light, when it had faded away, had turned the glass into a reflective material. Shown there, bound, gagged, stripped of shield (yet again), was Eric.

**A/N: **Another chapter comes to a close. In my personal opinion, I didn't like this chapter and the last because Eric and Diana were separated. On the other hand, I like having these characters go off and do things on their own, but things are more exciting when everyone is together. Anyway, let me know how I'm doing. Hate it, love it, but please review it! Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Dedicated to die-hard ExD fans: finally, some payback for your patience.

**The Silver Veil**

**XII.**

_Stupid fluttering light._

Eric had been wandering around in the catacombs of hell for what seemed like forever. Maybe this was his punishment for being a catty bastard, like Sisyphus doomed to push a boulder up a hill. In fact, Eric would much rather struggle with a boulder than to slosh through more stagnant, poisonous water. He was dizzy from the noxious fumes. _Gimme me a break already._

To pass time, he started a game called "What is worse than THIS?" And much to his vexation, he'd actually won against himself. _How, you might ask?_ _Well, folks, seems like Eric has finally discovered his TRUE FEELINGS for the lovely acrobat named Diana._ The gnawing, nagging worry that he'd left Diana by herself, coupled with the intense and passionate thoughts about her (which had been occurring quite frequently) left him concluding that he did, indeed, fall in love with her.

It was _so_ inconvenient. Was he not the guy that nobody understood? Was he not the very same one who made nasty, spiteful comments to villains that would potentially kill him? And, here he heard his psychologist speaking, wasn't he projecting a biting attitude for the sole reason to keep anybody from worming his or her way into his heart? He was left with the distinct feeling that he was gypped.

For what purpose did he make all those sarcastic remarks when he found himself desperately wanting to kiss and 'handle' (_wink, wink, jab, jab: God, he hated his father_) a girl, who, by the way, practically loathed him during any _normal_ situation. Which also left him wondering if she would laugh at him when he got up the nerve to tell her his feelings, or if she would feel even remotely the same way about him.

"I'm a sick puppy," he muttered as his shoulder brushed the oozing wall and came away with slimy slop. The light waited as Eric groaned in aggravation. "Can you _please_, for God's sake, get me the _hell outta here?"_

The next turn the light dipped around dropped his jaw. Throughout his travels with the light, Eric had noticed that other similarly colored lights stuck like jewels here and there in the wall of the sewer. Since they were stationary, Eric didn't give them much thought. But now, the lights lining the wall were clustered, stringing along in graceful swoops and curls, so that it made Eric feel like he was walking past Christmas lights.

His guiding light continued wafting in front of him, and soon the entire wall, ceiling and all, were coated with a glowing light that was quite bright. Unwilling to touch or brush against an unknown whatever-it-was, Eric stepped off the raised curb into the stagnant water. If he'd felt less claustrophobic, he would have thought the sight above and to the sides of him was beautiful. A flash of something caught his eye and miserable hope fluttered in his chest.

Way, way down, pure light beamed into the sewer like a flashlight spotting him in the dark. Very nearly crying from joy, Eric high-stepped and splashed toward it. He felt like shouting, 'Hey, Mom and Dad! I'm going into the light!' The thought of it cracked his sanity enough that a high pitched giggle escaped his throat.

_I'm outta here! I'm outta here!_ He hummed to himself, reaching for the crisp, white light, and thank heaven, fresh air filtered into the underground. Abruptly Eric stopped, his hope shattering like frail crystal dropped off a skyscraper.

Spanning the sewer opening was a grate.

_Why me?_

Seriously aggravated that he should be blocked at every turn, Eric bared his teeth.

"I don't think so," he muttered, and promptly smashed his shield into the obstacle. Boulders had broken on this shield, and Eric reasoned that the shield could at least break down some stupid metal grate. Again and again, Eric meted out punishment on the metal bars, and finally, sick of being pounded on, the grate crumbled, thunking to the moist ground on the other side.

Expecting something to come and shove him back in the hole, Eric wearily stepped out into the daylight, squinting against the sunlight he'd not seen in…how long? He observed that it was morning. Had he been in there for an entire night? And besides that, who cared? Relief was a potent emotion, and Eric was flooded with it.

"I'M FREE! I'M FREE!" The Cavalier, unable to get a grasp on his euphoric hysteria, ran around in a circle, flapping his arms like a bird, not caring that he was acting like a lunatic. "I'M FREE! I'M FREE! I'M FR-"

"You have been most troublesome to find, Cavalier," a deep, evil voice interrupted the one-man celebration. Before every fiber in Eric's being screamed in complete terror, he had a moment where his system went into a sort of stasis.

"Aw, _shit_," Eric muttered, during that time, as Venger landed his Nightmare in front of him. He never had any luck at all. Eric waited for Venger to try and zap him, but it never came. The archmage's robes swished menacingly as he dismounted and strode to where Eric was standing numbly, trying to get his legs to _go_.

"Do not think of escape, Cavalier," Venger said firmly, seeing Eric's eyes shifting from side to side. His pale fingers itched to unleash a bolt of energy and crisp the Young One. But he didn't. He needed what the Cavalier knew: where his Acrobat friend had gone, and to where the other Young Ones had escaped. Venger focused his attention on the cringing Cavalier before him.

"I'm not Houdini, horn-head," the young man replied blithely as he shifted his shield protectively. Venger frowned deeply, eye twitching while he stamped the impulse to tear the other to shreds.

"Where is it that the Acrobat went?" he asked finally, shifting his hands so that the young man could see their glow. He could see the Cavalier's throat constrict as he tried to swallow and speak. A couple seconds ticked away to a minute; the minutes combined into several. Did the Cavalier turn into an imbecile suddenly? But no, something was shifting inside the Cavalier…Venger could feel the energy change.

A slow sort of realization spread across the Cavalier's face; his eyes narrowed, and Venger watched as his spine straightened as though some unseen force was working marionette strings, pulling the boy up tall. Venger recognized that look, and it was the look of righteousness and courage swelling up and guiding the Cavalier's thoughts.

"I'm not telling you," Eric slowly answered, holding his shield so tightly his knuckles were white in his gloves. He'd made a decision in the mere minutes that he and Venger had been talking. All his life he'd backed down or ran away scared. He knew Venger. As soon as Eric revealed what Diana was looking for, Eric would be dead and so would she. If he didn't tell, Venger would probably kill him anyway. The thought ran his blood cold, churned his stomach, made him vibrate with fear, but there was still one thing that rose up in his mind like a tsunami.

And as this titanic epiphany dawned on him (he was surprised there wasn't more light and angels singing), Eric took a long, hard look at himself and what he wanted to be remembered for. The answer he came up with: if he was going to die no matter what he did, he would defy Venger until the bitter, cruel end.

The satisfaction of knowing, as he died, that Venger couldn't get what he wanted would be enough for him. This, and the fact that Diana would be alive and safe for maybe a few more moments, maybe a few more years. Her life was what was important now. His only thought, as Venger shifted forebodingly, was how he hadn't realized it until now. Even though he'd made his decision, the Eric he was trying to leave behind told him he was being stupid. _Oh well._

"Cavalier," Venger said, his voice rolling like thunder and his hands crackling with power that begged to be used. "Choose wisely. I do not deal lightly with defiance."

Eric snorted and took his time to activate his shield. It seemed stronger, different in some way. _Weird._ But weirder still, the glowing wrapped up and around his arm, spreading to coat his body. _That _had never happened before, but Eric couldn't stand around and figure it out.

"Go to hell," Eric told Venger staunchly, and he charged. He caught the look of utter astonishment on Venger's features and savored it as a small triumph.

_Diana,_ he thought as he raised his shield to smash it into Venger's chest, _I'm sorry._

His world spun and went dark.

He was seeped with half-dreams, murmurs, filtered light, movement that jarred him painfully into less-than-semi-consciousness.

A great distance separated him from his body. He was detached, floating formlessly in a great, wide space. The freedom was peaceful, but he was missing something, rather, some_one_.

Where was she? Was she near? Far? Alive? Dead?

Eric had never wanted to be in Diana's presence more than at this one moment. Whether she hated him, missed him, cursed him, hit him, anything she had did before he now considered as a great gift. He should have done more to take care of her, to show her how he'd felt about her.

_Because I'm dead…right?_ He'd attacked Venger; the archmage had killed him.

_But I'm feeling and thinking…so I'm alive?_

Eric found he wasn't sure what he was. Hesitatingly, Eric flicked an eye open, tried opening the other, but found it was swollen shut. A dark voice mentioned it might even be gone.

_I'm alive. I'm seeing a cage, and those are Orc guards standing right there_.

The sky was blue, the sun was hot and baking, and the land was flat and covered with weeds and grass. They (_Venger?_) were still in the plains somewhere.

Next thing he noticed was the gag. It had been tied roughly, and while he'd been unconscious, it soaked up his saliva. He could already feel some on his skin chafe. Wiggling, just ever so carefully, Eric managed to dislodge the wet gag.

Otherwise, he must be paralyzed; he couldn't feel anything in his limbs. Then he looked and thought it was probably because they'd been wretched and roped together. _No surprises there_. If that wasn't enough, they'd stripped him down to his boxers.

A deep breath revealed his aching and smarting chest, making him think a bus had hit him. An enormous bruise, covering about ninety percent of his fish-belly chest, roiled a disgusting purple-black-green. _Probably a lightening bolt hit there_. After this initial assessment, his mind touched on many different topics, and he let it wander before he centered on one particular question.

_How'd I live?_

Venger had to have spared him. _But why?_

What good would sparing him be?

He worked on this question for a few minutes and discovered that Venger was probably using him as bait to flush Diana or the others out. But if Venger was trying to lure Diana into the Orc camp, he was doing too good of a job defending it. Eric could see, although blurry, soldiers marching around and many tents whipping in the wind. How was she supposed to attack an army camp?

Only because his head was resting on the ground was he able to hear the vibrations that filtered up from deep underground. After a few moments, the vibrations deepened into audible rumbles and small pebbles near Eric's head started shivering and moving on the barren ground. A sound, like an earthquake, deafened him.

Outside his cage, the Orcs were running willy-nilly, squealing, shouting, unsheathing, and generally freaking out about the earthquake. It made Eric think that something more was happening. _An attack?_ The confusion only thickened when roars, loud and bear-like, shattered his eardrums. Instantly Eric recognized it.

It was then that shadows flitted across the ground. The metal creaked and strained, and something lifted his cage up gently and swiftly. Eric, feeling vague and curious, shifted so that he could see what was flying the cage. A bunch of multicolor balloons had attached to the bars spanning the top. He thought he heard them making some sort of noise, like 'choo' or something. But the ruckus below him drew his attention.

Through camp, a whole herd of bear turtles stampeded, bellowing like freighter trains. Tents and Orc alike disappeared under the claws of the strange creatures, falling away like taunt tissue paper under a deftly thrown rock. In mere minutes, the entire area was back to being thoroughly flattened. As suddenly as they had appeared, the bear turtles left, receding like the tide of an ocean. Everything was quiet.

The bunch of balloons floated him to an area where splashes of color were discernable, and when he was gently lowered to the ground again, the sound of trees acclimated him to the forest. _What the hell just happened?_

Then familiar fur-tied boots stepped into his vision. Strong, shapely legs extended from the brown boots, and as Eric's eye traveled up and up the curvaceous body, he found Diana's expressive face peering down on him.

"Geez, Eric. You're tied up, yet _again_," she said in mock annoyance, and he watched her silently, trying to get a hold of himself as emotions overwhelmed and twisted. She jimmied her javelin through the padlock prongs and wrenched forcefully. The padlock broke to pieces, and the door to Eric's cage swung open. When she leaned over him, she clucked. Her strong fingers worked the knots at his hands and feet, and Eric breathed her and found her to smell like sunlight and fresh wind. And where he previously did not feel, he was distinctly aware of the brush of her skin.

"How'd you get beat up?" Diana asked softly, tossing the rope carelessly to the side and lifting him to his feet to take a moment to examine him. She touched the side of his face that looked as though he went a round or two with a professional boxer. His other eye was assessing her, and she felt like he was trying to figure something out. Eric's look made her skittish, so she turned her attention to the hideous mark on his torso that glared at her as well. Not able to help it, she ran her hand along his chest and tried not to drop her touch lower to brush his muscled stomach.

"I missed you," he whispered seriously, not caring if he was battered and bruised, and framed her face with his hands. Only _she_ mattered. Eric wished he could see her expression better, her dark eyes as he leaned in, but he could only conjure up a guess. Her hands found their way under his arms to clutch his shoulders, and to her surprise, they seemed broader to her.

Closer she drew, wanting to be a part of him, of this _man_ he'd become in her absence. She should say something; where was her courage? _I love you_, she thought. There, the words were right _there!_ But for all that, Diana couldn't speak. She was too busy longing and fearing for what he seemed intent to do. All over she felt heated, scorched, _melted,_ and she wanted more than anything for Eric to press his lips against hers and release this tension that was gliding across her stomach and weakening her knees to jelly. She thought she was going to die if he didn't kiss her now.

And when he finally did, she went all quiet inside with the warm rush of blood to her head. Her heart, her poor little heart, had stopped for the briefest of moments, but now was beating such a tattoo against her ribs that she was sure it would explode. Eric's mouth opened, and his tongue ran along hers. A delighted little moan escaped her throat.

His hands, oh God, his glorious hands! One cupped the nape of her neck and the other slipped down to the small of her back. Every nerve fired and begged for more sensation. Then there was a throbbing that occurred in the vicinity between her legs that Diana had never experienced before, even with Kosar. Although she'd been on dates and kissed and fooled around before, no boy's touch stirred her like Eric's. _More_, she thought. _I need more._

She had thought she was going to die if he didn't kiss her; now she thought the same when he did.

**A/N:** I know I glazed over some parts in my excitement to get to the end. I promise plot holes will be filled in the next chapter. And thanks to everyone who's given criticism and support. You all rock!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Problems, problems, problems. These two don't catch any breaks! Please enjoy.

**The Silver Veil**

**XIII.**

"How the _heck_ didja manage all _that?_" A fully clothed Eric gestured vaguely with his free arm towards the direction of the left-behind stampeded encampment. The other was draped across Diana's shoulders as they walked behind the two leading Elgatos. He'd taken that liberty, along with _other_ such liberties, since their passionate reunion kiss. She giggled, lifting a hand to cover her mouth.

"Oh, you know," she answered modestly, then swatted his hand when he went to tickle her behind the ear.

"No, I _don't_," Eric protested, feeling like he was hanging onto his personal goddess. If he could get away with building an altar to her, he probably would. That aside, she was still avoiding the subject. He wiggled his fingers that rested on her shoulders again, causing her to jerk and shove him nearly into a tree. "That's why I asked."

"You're not going to leave me alone until I tell you, is that it?" she asked shrewdly, lifting a hand to her hip, mirroring what her mother did to her often when she was being difficult. He smirked like only Eric could and shrugged sheepishly. Sighing in irritation, Diana continued walking along the path as Eric joined her.

"I should probably start with finding the Silver Veil. It was under the Pool of Reflections, just as Dungeon Master said it would be. When I got into the room with the Veil, there was this guardian that wouldn't let me have the Veil until I brought _you_ along. She showed me that you were in danger," she paused as Eric clasped his hands to the side of his head and batted his eyelashes comically.

"Awww, they _do_ care," he said. Diana rolled her eyes to the back of her head.

"_Anyway_, when the fuzzles flew us to the Pool, we saw the Orcs gathering at the edge of the forest. We thought that if you'd been captured, that was the best place to start. And wouldn't you know, there you were," she continued, leaving out how her stomach had twisted and clenched as Venger flew from the heavens on his Nightmare and unceremoniously dumped Eric to the ground at the feet of his Orc. Even from that distance, she'd seen his red cape and the flash of yellow that was his armor. Ra'Veath had to physically restrain her; she'd wanted to go down and give Venger a piece of her staff.

"We managed to get closer and see where they put you and your stuff. After that, it all sort of came together. I would use the fuzzles to try and find the mother bear turtle and use her as a distraction as the Elgatos got your armor and shield, and the fuzzles got _you_. I couldn't believe it when I found a whole herd of those bear turtles," she said, moving her hands to emphasize. Eric hm-hmed and tucked a little curlicue of hair behind her ear, just happy to be beside her, listening to her, _looking_ at her.

"After that, things were easy. The bear turtles would charge, and as the Orc ran around, a few fuzzles would lower the Elgatos to retrieve your armor, and the others would pull your cage out and into the forest. Easy as pie," she concluded, smiling sanguinely. Eric's fingertips brushed the side of her cheek as though starving for her.

"You're amazing," Eric said seriously, looking her full in the face with his good eye. Things were still a little soupy, and to his estimate, would be for a while.

"Thanks, Eric. I-"

A sharp, silent warning motion from Ra'Veath ahead quieted her immediately. The entire party stopped short, instantly alert. Even the fuzzles quit their rustling along the ground. A cool wind ruffled the restless trees. The suns were setting, and the forest looked ablaze with the colors.

Diana shivered in the breeze, and Eric drew her nearer. All heads were cocked, all ears attuned to the surrounding environment. A deep, deep hush settled over the forest, setting pulses tripping. Eric recognized this feeling, this sudden energy drain.

"IT'S VENGER!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, but his voice was drowned out. The humming, vibrating noise throbbed in everyone's ears as an explosion blew part of the forest to oblivion beside them. Mulch and dirt showered down on the small group, and Venger's Nightmare neighed like an erupting volcano. Somehow, Eric and Diana were still on their feet. Immediately, Sh'Gyra, who'd been behind them the entire time, shoved them with tremendous force. His eyes were wild, wide, glazed.

"GET TO-"

Another explosion a la Venger muted him, deafened anything within a fifty-foot radius, as more earth plumed and hailed. Both the Cavalier and the Acrobat caught the meaning of his leftover, mouthed words. Diana grabbed Eric's arm, wheeled around, and started sprinting. To his credit, Eric kept up stride for stride, his long legs pumping like pistons, both Young Ones tearing through the forest almost as quickly as Venger above them.

Venger was not any sparing mood. As the two pupils below him wound in and out of the trees in the Autumn Forest, he rained hell upon their heads. Energy shot out of his hands like bullets from a machine gun, close to nipping at their heels. Trees disintegrated, ground dimpled, and still the two Young Ones ran as if on feet of wings.

It was almost enough to burst one of his capillaries.

For them, there was no pausing for breath, no slowing down for the stitch in their sides. Both could feel Venger's hot, licking fury and chilling hatred in the air, how utterly and entirely _pissed_ he was with them for foiling him, _yet again._ He would not be done, they knew, until they were dead and burned to ash.

Using some second instinct to guide her, Diana hurtled through the woods, hearing Eric clanking and gasping behind her. In her impatience, she didn't realize how far from the Pool of Reflections they actually had been. She felt like they'd run a thousand miles and had a thousand left to go. A thought, worming its way through her locked mind, asked what the technical term was for when time seemed to slow down like it was doing currently. But mostly her dominant question was: _Where is that damned pool?_

It _had_ to be around here somewhere; Eric wasn't a sprinter, he couldn't last much longer laden with pounds of armor and a half-shield. Suddenly, flashing through her like a lightening bolt, every hair on her body electrified, and all her muscles locked, causing her to skid to a stop. She shrieked as air and earth split, cracked, disappeared in front of her, and she overbalanced and fell forward with arms circling like windmills, but Eric, good ole Eric, was there, hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her back before she toppled into the twenty-foot pit that had suddenly appeared.

They both rolled and miraculously gained their feet, and ran in a weaving pattern that seemed to work best. Up ahead, finally, thank _God_, Diana could see the sparkle between the trees, at last the Pool of Reflections! She charged ahead, trees reduced to crackling stumps and a bajillion pieces all around her and without pause, dove into the deep, clear water. She felt Eric dive behind her, and if Venger was throwing down energy, she did not feel or notice it.

Down, down, down they slowly submerged. Eric's armor helped him sink, and so he grasped her arm to help her downwards. The clean feeling returned, the comfort, the wholesomeness of the water. It wasn't as quiet as the last time because her heart was crashing blood in her ears like tidal waves.

Again the sparkling, again the feeling that she was switched around, but Eric was with her this time, slowly descending toward that very light that had confused her before. And for a second time, Diana broke the surface on the underside of the Pool of Reflections. Eric gasped near her, and he looked around in trepidation. Diana was already moving up the steps to the altar under the guardian, dripping and squishing with every step. In awe, because all sorts of magic heavily protected this place, Eric followed her. They both stopped in front of the altar and looked down at the Silver Veil.

"This is it, huh?" he asked breathlessly. She could only nod. They were at the edge of something, standing over a dark unknown…why did she feel that way? There should be excitement, joy fluttering in her stomach, not this dark, sickening dread that raised goosebumps up and down her arms. She told herself to stop it, her friends were in danger and the Elgatos and fuzzles were fighting for their lives. It had to be done now; there was _no_ _time_.

"Put your hands on it," Diana prompted, placing hers on the cool glass. Eric lifted his, but hesitated to glance at her. He, too, felt a certain dread of the unknown, like what they were doing was going to be wrong. Diana, beside him, shot him a 'what are you doing?' look, so without further adieu, Eric pressed his hands to the glass.

The atmospheric shift was jarring for him as the magic activated.

"You have done well, Child of the Stargazer," the cool, soothing voice complimented almost immediately. The guardian statue had come to life once again and was addressing them. Diana flicked her eyes to Eric, who had a look of mild bemusement on his features. "This Son of the Nobles has sacrificed much to be with you, and so the Silver Veil is now yours to use. But beware! Great deception clouds the future of the Young Ones, which will change all that you know."

As the guardian's words faded into the dark, dank chamber, the glass surrounding the Silver Veil shattered in to no less than a million twinkling pieces.

"_I'm_ not sweeping _that_ up," Eric commented, and Diana was pleased to see that his one eyebrow was cocked above the other one. Together they reached and grasped the Silver Veil. Under the glass it had lain sedate, but in their hands, it was alive, the silver glimmering and fluttering like the wings of a thousand birds. It lifted their hearts; Diana laughed as it touched her face, surrounding her with soft embraces on her skin.

"Hey! Keep your cloth to yourself!" doth protested the Cavalier. He heard a voice, a whispering voice that sounded teasingly familiar…

"Where do you w-w-wish to go?" The voice vibrated or something on the pronounced 'w' of 'wish,' and weirdly enough, the volume of it flexed between loud and soft even though it was still a whisper. _I've heard this voice before_. He _knew_ he knew. Where had he heard it?

"Take us to Hank and the others," Diana replied in a heartbeat. The Silver Veil swept gracefully around them, crushing and rising up like poured water in a pitcher. Somehow it glided under their feet, lifting Eric and Diana from the stone floor of the submerged chamber. The cloth billowed over their heads, veiling their eyes from the outside, and they felt like they were drifting in a slow stream.

"Is…is it taking us to them?" asked the Acrobat fretfully, reaching for Eric's arm. Eric shrugged; he'd felt the potent magic whirling and writhing within the very fabric of the veil, and it had caused him to shiver.

"W-w-we are here," the loud/soft, vibrating whisper told them. The Veil flapped like a sheet in the wind, and before Diana and Eric had a chance to react, it draped limply over their heads.

The first thing Eric noticed when he and Diana drew the veil off their heads was the _beauty_ of the place. It was greener and neater and sunnier than any place he'd been before. Flowers exploded like one of Monet's paintings, and the sheer joy of the place put Eric at ease. Diana glanced at him and gasped softly.

"Eric…your face," she murmured, touching her fingertips to his eye. Where it had once been like a cantaloupe bulging his eye out, his face had returned to normality. His eye was completely healed.

"_Hey!_ Who're _you_?" a youthful, blatant voice demanded. Eric and Diana turned their attention over, and then down. Bobby, with Uni, stood with his legs apart and his fists on his hips. The two older teens stared. Bobby was wearing _normal_ clothing: jeans and a t-shirt.

"_Well?_" he demanded impertinently. This elicited an ill-humored snort from Eric.

"Keep your shorts on, small fry," Eric replied, as his stomach churned. Bobby didn't recognize them. Things seemed to stop at this one thought: Bobby didn't recognize them. He didn't. Eric's mind reeled, and he shifted his eyes to Diana, who looked just as confused and stricken as he was.

"_I'm not a small fry!_" Bobby cried indignantly.

"Bobby…Bobby, where're Sheila, Presto, and Hank?" Diana asked weakly, leaning down to be eye level with him. This had to be a joke, right? They were just playing a prank. That had to be it, right?

"Howja know my name?" he asked slowly, then, "I'm not tellin' you anything until you tell me who the heck you are." Bobby's mouth set mulishly and his arms folded on his small chest.

"We're…I'm Diana, and this is…this is Eric," said Diana, standing straight. She felt cold all over, weak, and Bobby's steady glare wasn't helping her nerves. He continued frowning, running their names through his mind.

"Diana…and Eric?" the youngest Young One asked, glancing at Uni as he repeated their names. Something stirred in his memory…there was something familiar about the scowling dark-haired teen and the slender black female.

"Bobby? _Bobby!_" It was Sheila. She, too, was wearing regular clothing, and was running towards them, her red hair flashing in the sunlight. When she was near enough, she scooped Bobby in her arms and held him protectively, eying Diana and Eric dubiously. "Who're your friends?"

"This is Diana, and that's Eric," Bobby pointed. The two newcomers noticed a slight change in expression on Sheila's face. But as soon as it was there, it was gone again. Eric reached around Diana, who was trembling, and curled her into him. Their friends definitely _did not_ recognize them. The sheer shock of the realization left Diana treading in murky emotions.

"Where did you come from?" asked Sheila with caution as she stood, but still held Bobby near her.

"Same place as you," Eric said. He wanted, more than anything, to shake Sheila by her shoulders and tell her to _remember them!_ But something else was going on; perhaps this new place erased memories. If that was the case, and Eric prayed it wasn't, then it would take more time than they had to gain the others' trust once again. Things were too urgent. Eric would have to take matters into his own hands, and when they had gathered together, he would implement this loosely forming plan.

"I…I," Sheila stammered, her eyebrows crunching together with confusion, "I don't remember where I'm from."

"Sheila? We have two extra rooms in the house, can they stay?" he asked, suddenly recalling that there were, indeed, those two extra rooms. His former mistrust of the two strangers was diminished by the way they stood unguardedly in front of him and his sister. Then, not waiting for her permission, reached out and tugged on Eric's hand. "C'mon, I'll show you around!"

"Bobby!" his sister objected, but Bobby was already towing along Eric and Diana, as Uni trotted beside him. Sheila gazed after them, feeling like she knew those two from somewhere, but having no recollection of when or where.

Eric and Diana received the _whole_ tour: around the house, inside the house (upstairs and downstairs) and the shock of their lives when Bobby pushed open the door to Eric's, and then Diana's, room and when they entered, that it felt like home.

Diana wanted to cry. The look, the smell, the space were all perfect for her. It was like she stepped from discomfort to comfort. And when she broke from her room to check on Eric, she found him standing in the middle of his room, chest heaving and a wicked scowl marring his face. From her position, she saw him gulp around a lump in his throat. Forgotten on the floor was the crumpled and pooled fabric of the Silver Veil.

"Hank! Presto!" Bobby yelled down the hallway, startling Eric and Diana from their stupor. Heavy and light footsteps sounded through the house, and subconsciously, Diana had to quickly slip her hand into Eric's for the courage to face Hank.

The blond Ranger came around the doorjamb first, dandelion mane and icy eyes sparking at the sight of two strangers. Following him was Presto, and Diana squeezed Eric's hand harder. _Surely_, she thought, heart thundering in her chest, _surely these two will remember us!_

Her prayer went unheard. Hank's gaze was serious and steady, no recognition crossing his stalwart features. By the position of his head and body, Diana and Eric saw the apprehension. Both of their hearts rolled painfully their chests.

Presto, however, smiled eagerly, his goldish-brown eyes warming with the sight of two new people. He'd always been one to try and make new friends.

"Who're you?" Hank asked as his arms crossed his chest. It was Diana's turn to swallow and plaster a falsely cheerful smile on her face.

"I'm Diana, and this Eric," she answered him. She felt Eric's tension through his board-tight arm and his stiff hand; she risked a glance up and found him practically trying to sour Hank, his frown was so deep.

"How'd you get here?" Hank asked, tone laden with suspicion, still piercing her with his gaze. Diana's mouth went suddenly dry. She groped for an answer.

"Same way as you," was Eric's quick and confident reply. It had seemed to work so far, although it nagged at him that Sheila could not remember where she'd actually come from. Diana bit her lip and felt like a liar.

"That so?" continued Hank, and his spotlighting eyes resting on Eric. Diana caught the ever-so-slight shift of Hank's body. Minimally, Eric dropped his shoulders back and down, in response to Hank's slight movement. Were they going to fight?

"Welcome to our home," Presto greeted, interrupting the mounting tension. He came forward, and as he did he told Hank, under his breath, "_Manners_."

"Hank, here," Presto continued, as if he hadn't hissed at the other, "acts as our watch dog. Don't worry, he won't bite."

"Hard," Diana heard Hank mutter as he gave a curt nod. She wondered what had made him so defensive, as he had never been this way before. Beside her, Eric took Presto's proffered hand, his face revealing clearly his feelings about all of this business.

"Thanks," Eric answered, giving Presto's hand a good, solid pump. "Do you guys have anything to eat around here? We're starved."

Diana nearly smacked Eric for thinking of food at a time like this, but it was the right thing to say. Presto smiled, told them it was just about dinnertime, and waved them to follow him to the dining room. Eric said they'd be there, just give them a few minutes to change and wash up. When the others left them, Hank more slowly than the rest as he gave them his equivalent of the evil eye, Diana turned to Eric. He was picking up the Silver Veil and folding it carefully.

"They don't remember us," she said flatly, pointing out the obvious. She tried working through how she actually felt about that fact and came up still unsure.

"They sure don't," Eric answered as he turned to drop the Veil over the back of a chair distractedly, his mind sifting through possibilities like a sieve.

"I wonder why?"

"Beats me. I think it's this place. It's so…so-o-" he hesitated. What was the word he was looking for?

"Comforting?" Diana supplied. "That would explain why they don't take to outsiders."

"If they've even had any. Getting them to come with us back to the Realm is going to be a pain," said Eric, sounding like he was half speaking to himself.

"And what is up with Hank?" Diana sat on the edge of Eric's bed, smoothing the covers out with her hand for something to do. "He was really acting funny."

"I'm gonna tell them we were sent here for their help. If we can appeal to Sheila and Presto's sense of compassion, we're sure to win Hank over," replied the Cavalier calculatingly. Based on what he'd seen from Hank, they would have to play this smartly in order to convince the former Ranger to play ball.

"So…just let you do the talking?"

"I hate to say it, but yeah," said Eric, turning back around. "Let's get this over with."

Eric and Diana separated, redressed, rejoined, agreeing when they stepped into the hallway that it was so _weird_ being dressed like Earthlings, and prepared for another battle entirely.

**A/N:** Next chapter: A lot of arguing and sarcastic comebacks. But who knows? I say this, and then something entirely different happens. As usual, please review and criticize if you so desire. Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Huzzah! Chapter 14 has arrived! Thanks to everyone for the wonderful comments and constructive criticism that completely and absolutely motivates me to write better. Please enjoy:

**The Silver Veil**

**Chapter XIV.**

Eric, Diana, and Sheila sat across from Hank, Bobby, and Presto, but since the table was round, everyone could see everyone else except for Uni, who was sprawled under Bobby's chair. The gong had sounded as usual for the part of the group that had spent the most time there, and food magically appeared on the empty table. Things normally found on a menu in a Mexican restaurant occupied the space between the Young Ones. Everyone except Eric and Diana dug right in.

"Do…you think it's all right?" she whispered without moving her mouth. She grinned at Bobby who was pigging down a soft taco before anyone else had food on his or her plate. Sheila told him to wait patiently until their guests were served.

"Sorry, Sheila," Bobby answered sheepishly, as Eric took the opportunity to reply.

"Just eat it," he said through his teeth as he, too, grinned, but at Hank, who was steadily glaring at him from across the table. Platters and bowls exchanged hands, drinks were poured, and thus began the dinner ritual.

"So this is a great place," Eric mentioned, folding up a burrito on his plate. He was talking generally, testing the waters.

"Yeah!" Presto agreed, glasses steaming from his sizzling fajita filling. "You can get whatever you want just by wishing it."

"I wished for a playground today!" Bobby piped up. Uni bleated her agreement from under the chair. This seemed to put everyone at ease.

"Really?" Sheila said to Bobby then turned her attention to Hank, who was _still_ glaring at Eric. "Hank, what did you wish for today?"

Hank seemed reluctant to answer. But Presto, Sheila, and Bobby wheedled him until he caved, much to Eric's and Diana's amusement.

"I wished for some adventure."

The dinner table went quiet. Eric's eyebrows lifted, and he leaned forward conspiratorially.

"We practically specialize in adventure," he said, gesturing to himself and Diana. "Are you willing to listen?" The clattering of silverware on the table brought everyone's attention to Sheila, who was half-standing and colorless.

"_Why'd_ you _do that!_" she blurted at Hank, who'd narrowed his eyes.

"I'm bored out of my mind," he said lowly. "There has to be something _more_ than _this!_" Here he gestured vaguely around at the house, and the world they were currently residing in.

"We're happy here," Sheila stated, sitting heavily in her chair, the pretty picture of upset.

"Are you really?" Eric asked, tone unreadable, interrupting their tiff.

"What do _you_ know about _us?!_" Sheila snapped furiously. Diana bit her lip and looked at Eric, wondering if he needed her help. He only calmly set his fork down and turned to face Sheila fully, all business.

"I know that you're a secret Shakespeare fan. Your favorite work of his is 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' You also like to sew and knit. Bobby has an addiction to all sports, but especially football and baseball. He loves dinosaurs, and the stegosaurus is his favorite. Presto, here, likes math and science. He enjoys playing magic tricks and is a whiz with any kind of card game. Hank is a wood-working fan, can beat anyone at darts, and loves nature. He was even an Eagle Scout on Earth. Does _that_ answer your question or would you prefer me to continue?"

Another awkward silence settled over the table. Sheila, if colorless before, was now going on transparent.

"H-how…how did you know?" asked Presto with wonderment, eyes wide behind his glasses. A chunk of green pepper dropped from his upheld fork back to his plate.

"Before you came to this place," Eric answered slowly, refolding his napkin in his lap, "we were all friends on a world called Earth. We were then transported to the Realm, which is another world different from Earth. The Realm is where Diana and I came from just recently. We were told to take you back there." Everyone seemed transfixed on Eric, hanging on his every word.

"This Realm…we…we were superheroes there, right?" Bobby asked, rubbing his temples. Eric's story struck a chord in him, and the Realm sounded familiar. Glimpses of something that had been hidden in shadow flashed up, and he grasped desperately at them. It was like knowing how to solve a math problem, but forgetting how to start it.

"In a way," Eric continued. "Hank was a ranger, Sheila was a thief, Presto was a magician, you were a barbarian, I was a cavalier, and Diana was an acrobat. Together we fought against Venger to get back to Earth." Now that he told the story out loud, Eric thought it sounded completely ludicrous.

"Venger," Hank repeated, and recognition had infiltrated his tone. His eyes were fixed on the wall behind Eric, but he was seeing through it. His thick fingers clamped the edge of the table. He, too, grasped at shadow flits of memory that were tantalizingly close.

"There was a guy named D-something, too," said Presto, sounding like he was having an 'ah-ha' moment.

"That would be Dungeon Master," Diana told him softly, and his expression was one of enlightenment.

"NO!" shouted Sheila, slamming her hands on the table, dispelling the charm Eric had woven over the boys.

"Sheila? What's wrong?" Hank asked. He was concerned with her sudden outburst, and she had turned an unhealthy shade of scarlet. Sheila could not articulate at that moment what exactly was bothering her. It was everything. Eric's story had released vivid pictures in her mind, and with them, a flood of emotion. Dungeon Master, Earth, her family, her home, all the awful, terrifying experiences she'd shared with this group of people had been retrieved from the very bottom of her consciousness, all because of Eric's words and his presence.

More than anything, she wanted to _stay here_. There was food on the table, a roof over their heads, fresh linens on the bed, sunlight and shade, water and earth, work and leisure. Happiness and comfort were all here, right at their feet, and compared to what they had experienced every day in that dreadful Realm, this place was paradise. She wasn't prepared to let it go to try and scratch out a living in the Realm where anything could be poisonous and hostile, where Venger attacked and rebuffed them each time they attempted to get back to Earth. For once, she'd not been homesick. Sheila had enjoyed the ease the forgetting brought her.

"She remembers," Eric said wisely. He'd seen the sudden shift of expression, how her eyes had flicked to him in complete recognition. "She remembers how hard it was to live in the Realm, how we were disappointed over and over again when home seemed just a step away, and it was taken away from us. Not pleasant, I know."

"_Shut up!_" Sheila continued, covering her ears. Tears leaked out of her eyes. "I don't want to go back!"

"ERIC!" Bobby suddenly exploded, shooting straight out of his chair and toppling it over, nearly clocking Uni with it. Diana could practically see the light bulb click on above his head.

Not caring about being polite or making a scene, Bobby scrambled over the table, sending food and drinks flying every which way, tackling Eric in a two-armed bear hug. His velocity carried them careening backwards, and the two of them landed in a pile on the floor. Bobby then proceeded to sob his eyes out, blubbering into Eric's sweater-vest about how he was sorry for forgetting him and how happy he was that Eric was back.

"Bobby," Eric murmured, patting the Barbarian on the back. Bobby's reaction had a domino effect. Hank gasped, and the light bulb went off above his head as well.

"I-I remember! _I remember!_ I REMEMBER!" Hank exalted, standing up and laughing, and seeing Hank recollect triggered Presto's memory, who stood and whooped, leaping into Hank's arms and the two of them celebrated raucously, somehow including Diana in the middle of it. Then Eric and Bobby joined in, and everyone was stomping the floorboards as they hopped like hyperactive, sugar-addicted rabbits. It felt like something very precious had been returned to them that they hadn't even known had been missing. In the excitement, no one saw Sheila slip away.

Later, after the mess caused by the impromptu rapture was cleaned, they sat in the living room and exchanged stories, filling in the gaps that had long since been left open to them. Their faces ached from smiling so much, and it was then, as Hank gazed at Eric and Diana with heartfelt warmth, he noticed Sheila was missing. He stood to go search for her, but Eric stopped him as Diana stood and left instead.

Diana had a rough idea of what was going through Sheila's mind. You don't spend every day and night with a person and not know what was going through her head.

Sheila had fled to her room, but had left the door unlocked, as Diana discovered when she gently pushed on the door. It opened to Sheila, kneeling beside her bed, weeping out her eyes much like Bobby had on Eric's shoulder.

"Sheila?" Diana called, letting her friend know she was there. Sheila didn't respond, and Diana took this as an encouraging sign. She stepped over and knelt, putting her hands on Sheila's shoulders. The redhead was wracked with sobs. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"Y-y-you know p-perfectly well what's wrong," Sheila responded, keeping her face buried in her bedspread so that her voice was muffled. Diana stroked her back.

"You don't want to go back to the Realm, or even to Earth," Diana answered compassionately. Sheila's nod was discernable from her trembling. Diana continued smoothing her friend's back, considering her next move. Eric had said that they would have to appeal to Sheila's sense of compassion, and Diana recalled Ra'Veath, Sh'Gyra, the other Elgatos, the fuzzles...

"There are creatures in the Realm who need our protection from Venger," Diana said. "We have weapons they don't. That makes us responsible for protecting them."

Sheila turned and fiercely smacked Diana's hand away. Her freckled features contorted in rage, tearstained and glistening as they were.

"Let someone _else_ be responsible," she spat and stood to stalk over to the window, stewing in a bed of seething hate and rage. Her black mood was palpable. Diana stood as well, slowly, feeling old and worn with Sheila's rejection. She sat to rest on the edge of the bed, collecting herself.

"That's not right, Sheila," responded Diana finally, hugging her arms and gazing at her friend's back. Sheila made an aggravated noise in her throat.

"That is so _typical!_ Responsible, _good_ Diana! So damn _righteous_ and _brave!_" Sheila accused, whirling to point an accusatory finger at the stunned Acrobat, who'd never heard Sheila swear before, let alone raise her voice in anger. Then Sheila closed in, using Diana's silence to her advantage. "It isn't enough that we sacrifice our _happiness_, but we must also sacrifice our _lives?_ I've had it. Dungeon Master can get lost!"

"You know nothing of _sacrifice_," Diana said scathingly, Sheila's words bringing her both to her feet and to a boiling rage. She'd _never_ been this angry with Sheila; she could actually hit her. "You shouldn't _talk_ about something you know _nothing_ about!"

"And _you_ do?" retaliated the Thief. They were standing feet apart, but it might as well have been miles.

_SLAP._

Both girls went deathly silent. The red mark on Sheila's cheek burned bright and almost as furiously as Sheila's and Diana's tempers. Diana had frozen, her hand and arm still poised from the aftershock of the slap to Sheila's face. She hadn't meant to hit her friend; it had just _happened._ It was too late now to go back, so Diana plunged ahead.

"Do you even know what Eric and I went through to get here? _Do you?_" Diana's voice was calm, but she couldn't get rid of the wavering. "We were worried _sick_, Sheila, about what had happened. Venger almost _killed_ us, and you stand here and talk about _sacrifice? How. Dare. You._"

"D-d-diana," Sheila whimpered, losing her backbone under Diana's fierce, cutting gaze. Sense had actually been slapped into her, and Sheila was slowly coming around to understand that Diana was right.

"You are coming back with us, whether you like it or not," Diana told Sheila, and grinding her fist into her open palm, added, "and you better believe I'll use force."

Hating to leave her friend but having to be cruel to be kind, Diana left, slamming the door shut. She leaned heavily against the wall, trembling and drained from what she'd done to Sheila. _I slapped her. I actually hit my closest friend. Oh, God what if she never forgives me? Did I do the right thing?_ Pained with anxiety and self-doubt, Diana stumbled into her room. _I threatened her with force, too. What am I becoming?_ She landed facedown on a soft bed with these terrible thoughts plaguing her mind.

Diana didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she heard the door creak open.

"Diana?" It was Eric. The light from the hall speared across the room, and Diana watched quietly as his silhouette approached her bed.

"Diana," he called again, and she finally responded.

"Hm?" She twisted to rest on her back and covered her eyes with her arm. The bed sank where he sat on the edge, and her skin tingled where he laid a cool hand on her bare arm.

"What happened with Sheila?"

"We argued. I slapped her. And I threatened her, too," she added dismally. "I feel awful." It didn't help her sullen mood when Eric snorted.

"That's _one_ way to remedy a situation," he replied. Diana briefly felt like being snarky, but ultimately decided she didn't have the energy.

"Is she okay?" she said instead, and let Eric peel her arm away from her eyes. In the weak light, she saw that he was studying her like he wanted to memorize what she looked like. It made her fidgety.

"Actually, she's upset that _she_ upset _you_. Typical, if you ask me," Eric told her. Diana lifted a corner of her mouth. Eric's finger touched the uplifted corner. "I see that."

"Typical of _what?_" Diana asked, drawing his hand away from her lips. He shrugged, carelessly flipping a hand.

"You know. Typical _girl_ behavior."

"Jerk," she replied and giggled at his mock-offended gasp.

"Now you've hurt _my_ feelings," he said, crossing his arms childishly. This opportunity was too good to pass up.

"You're in luck, Cavalier," said Diana, sitting up to wrap her arms around his neck, and his arms automatically unfolded to accept her. His eyes strayed to her mouth as if he knew what she was planning.

"Hm? Why's that?" he asked lightly, running a hand down her delighted back, his customary smirk in place.

"I know just how to make it all better," she murmured as she tilted her head up to kiss him. They didn't see a shadow pass across the open doorway.

"Aw, _gross!_ Diana'n'Eric are _mushy!_" Bobby complained loudly and with much disgust, causing the two to jerk away guiltily. Diana felt Eric tense in frustration.

"Shuddup, _shrimp_," Eric snarled, pissed at having the moment interrupted by one who clearly did not understand how kissing was a very good activity.

"Who're you callin' shrimp, shiny?"

From her room, Sheila heard the continued exchange between Eric and Bobby. Most definitely tomorrow morning she would apologize to Diana for being selfish and flighty, and she would willingly don her cloak once again to go wherever the group decided. She smiled into her pillow, having realized that everything was back to where it should be. It was much better than not having it at all.

A/N: I love writing dialogue between the gang, and I just hope it came out naturally. Next chapter: the gang gets Presto's hat and perhaps an appearance from Venger. Once again, please leave comments, questions, or concerns. Thanks!


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **At last, I return! A _long_ chapter is before you, so please enjoy and forgive me for the time it took to update and post. I have realized that life without Internet is HELL! Anyway, on with the fic!

**The Silver Veil**

**Chapter XV.**

I.

Imagine Eric's surprise when his door opened, and a small boy with his pet unicorn poked his head in. Eric glanced up from his book, a first edition copy of _Dante's Inferno_, which he thought for sure referenced the Realm somewhere.

"What's wrong, kid?" he asked, seeing the other's depressed expression. Bobby shrugged his shoulders and stared at the floor. He had tossed and turned in his own bed, and even though Uni was there, Bobby wanted to be around someone else. For some reason, he'd walked past Sheila's room straight to Eric's.

Uni bleated her encouragement, and Bobby approached Eric's bedside. Anticipating something, although he didn't know what it was, Eric laid the book facedown on his lap.

"It's just…uh," Bobby started, fingering the fabric of Eric's bedspread. He couldn't bring his eyes to Eric's. "I was wondering, if, you know, if I could…umm…" Bobby stopped, mortally humiliated, as Eric implied the meaning of this infinitely articulated speech.

"Sure. Come on up," he said, flipping the covers so that the opposite side welcomed Bobby with angles of dark blue and green with white stripes. Eric returned to his book, but glanced over when Bobby had yet to climb aboard.

"Could Uni…?"

"Her, too," Eric agreed, feeling like he was going soft or brotherly or something disgusting like that. He'd have to be especially sarcastic the next day to compensate for _this_ show.

Bobby crawled under the covers and helped Uni get comfortable while Eric prayed to God nobody would notice Bobby's absence and find him _here_, of all places. After Bobby and Uni settled in, Eric went back to his book. He managed to read about five pages before the door opened again.

"Um, Eric?" This time Sheila stepped from behind the door. Her aqua eyes drifted to the right of Eric where Bobby and Uni lay still. She sighed and smiled softly as she crossed the room to sit on Bobby's side. She, too, hadn't been able to rest, and had visited Bobby's empty room. Her sisterly instinct pulled her to Eric's door.

"I was wondering where he was," she said quietly, stroking Bobby's hair. Eric thumbed a page, not bothering to look over at her.

"So you came looking _here_," he replied in that well-thanks-for-not-answering-my-prayers way that God seemed to love hearing from him every day. Sheila did not seem to have a response to this comment, as she continued to card her fingers through her brother's golden hair.

"Could I…um…stay…here?" Sheila asked nearly quiet enough that Eric almost couldn't hear her. That made him glance at her, but she was busy watching Bobby slumber peacefully. It made her want to cry and snuggle with him like she'd done when he was just a toddler. When had he grown up?

"Knock yourself out," Eric answered her, unable to refuse her when she'd gone all loving and caring like that, and when he looked, he saw that the bed seemed just a little larger than last time, like it was ready to accommodate a third person. Eric shrugged, not caring what the bed did as long as it didn't move or try and eat him. Sheila had, by this time, climbed into bed and had scooted close to Bobby. Dreamily, she sighed and stopped wiggling around.

Eric rolled his eyes and again returned to his book. This time seven pages were read before the door opened, causing Eric to wonder if he was _ever_ going to get some quiet. He changed his mind when he saw who was at the door.

"Uh," Diana started before Eric waved her over. Shyly, she shuffled over the carpet, and to her surprise, she noticed Sheila, Bobby, and Uni all occupying Eric's bed.

"Don't ask," Eric told her, when she opened her mouth. He'd finished shifting to the side and was lifting the covers to let Diana in, which she did without hesitating because that was what she'd come to do.

When she'd stared at the ceiling of her room for a couple hours, she realized that she couldn't spend the night by herself in her separate room. So she'd gotten up and came to Eric, who seemed the natural choice to her. And now a little sigh of comfort escaped her lips, the sheets warm where Eric's body heat remained. The light didn't bother her, and almost immediately she fell asleep when she couldn't before.

The bed had definitely enlarged, Eric thought, seeing how there were now one, two, three, four, five people and one unicorn in it. Presto had shown up shortly after Diana, rubbing his head and smiling sheepishly, asking if Eric wanted to host a slumber party. Predictably, Eric gestured to his full bed, and told Presto he was three people and one unicorn too late with the suggestion. Of course afterwards, Eric propped the covers for Presto to slide in next to Diana. The only one missing was Hank, and Eric half-expected him to show up soon

He wasn't disappointed. For the fifth time that evening, the door to Eric's room opened slowly. The Cavalier didn't even look up.

"I saw the light on," Hank said, by way of greeting. Eric grunted, flipping a page in his book.

"I see everyone's already here," he continued as he crossed the threshold. Again, Eric grunted. Hank stopped short, and stalling for time, studied the books in Eric's bookcase. Most of them Hank had never even heard of: he was a Hardy Boys fan through and through. Enough silence intervened that Hank decided to come out with it.

"You wouldn't mind one more, right?" he asked, face hot and, he thought quite correctly, flaming red. It's not every day Hank asked another guy if he could get into bed with him, albeit there were others there, too and was meant in a completely platonic way. Eric lifted his eyes from his book finally and nodded to Sheila's side. Hank, smiling only slightly, got in next to her, deciding it wasn't weird if there were a whole group of people sharing a bed.

Eric turned the light off. Hank let his eyes adjust to the dark, considering something that had occurred to him while he was checking everyone else's room, which they had vacated. When he'd seen the light under Eric's door, he had debated a good ten minutes whether he should enter. Logic told him that not everyone was together in Eric's room; instinct told him otherwise. He received a great present when he found everyone in the same state of consciousness, with Eric acting as guard over them.

"It's good to be together," he said out loud. And from the feel of things, he was right.

"Yeah," Eric agreed to Hank's right, and then all that disturbed the quiet of the room was sound of six people and one unicorn sleeping.

II.

"Well, kids, time to go," Eric said the next morning, unfolding the Silver Veil. They had all slept fitfully, eaten the breakfast of champions, and geared up. Of course, Sheila and Diana had spoken and made up and were whispering girlishly in the next moment. Eric had an idea what the topic of the conversation was, having caught a couple pointed glances from the two girls.

Otherwise, everyone seemed delighted to be donning their former attire, and even Sheila turned up the hood on her cloak experimentally with a smile on her freckled features. The only one who didn't look normal was the hatless Presto.

"Far out!" Bobby exclaimed in amazement when he examined the Silver Veil. The Young Ones stood around the silvery, shining material, letting it glide over their fingers and hands.

"Where are we going?" Sheila asked, then anticipating Eric's comment, added, "Besides the obvious?"

"First we have to find Presto's hat," Hank answered, glancing around the circle of friends. "Once we have the Hat back, we tackle Venger, and then go home!"

Only Diana caught Eric's downcast eyes, the slight slumping of his shoulders. _He doesn't believe it_, she thought, and touched his shoulder to encourage him. She only received a sideways glance from him and a less than half-hearted smile.

"Okay, here goes! Take us to Presto's hat, please," Hank said hesitatingly, and the Silver Veil responded with a silky flourish.

"As you w-wish," it whispered-murmured, surrounding the Dungeon Master's pupils with crushed satin and light. After several moments, during which there were giggles and laughter from the pleasant ride, the Veil deposited the Young Ones in a large chamber, where the ceiling, walls, and floors gloried with ancient stonework. All in all, it was a chamber typical of Venger's keep, sporting a huge pit goring the center of the room and a workstation that sat innocuously to the side. Two large doors flanked the chamber, and Hank steadied an arrow on one and noticed Eric and Diana, without him telling them to, turn to guard the other.

"Sheila and Presto, go search that desk," Hank said nodding his head. "We'll watch the doors." Bobby and Uni stayed with him, holding the Veil and peering around them with disdain and worry. Hank watched out of the corner of his eye as the pair at the desk rifled through the mess there.

"The housekeeper must be out," Eric said archly, causing Hank to lift the corners of his mouth. How he'd missed those guys.

"It's gotta be here somewhere," Presto muttered as he opened a drawer and found his hat on top of manuals and quills. After a brief thanks to the Powers That Be for unlocked desk drawers, Presto held up his magical item. "My hat!"

"Awright!" Hank exulted and watched everyone else as Presto fitted the hat over his disheveled brown hair. Presto flashed a cracked grin in the group's direction, his eyes beaming with his relief and happiness, as they congratulated Presto on regaining his hat.

"Let's get outta here," Bobby said, shaking out the Veil. "I feel like swinging at something."

"_Bobby_," Sheila warned, but her statement went ignored.

"Right. Where to?" Hank asked, looking across at Eric, who only shifted his gaze to Diana and smirked.

"I'll take the Pool of Reflections for a hundred, Alex," the Cavalier said, and to Hank's amusement, Diana smiled shyly with pleasure.

"Wait," Sheila interrupted, as she ushered a sharp glance in Eric's and Diana's directions. "Why there?"

Diana gazed neutrally at Sheila, and looks of confusion crossed over Presto's and Bobby's faces. Little did anyone realize how the confusion would proliferate in the near future.

"We left some allies in danger," Diana responded as mild as lukewarm water. "We owe them our lives."

"Besides, ole horn-head's been itching for a fight," Eric added, flicking his eyes over Hank, Bobby, and Presto. He continued in a passable impersonation of John Wayne, "and I reckon we ought to honor his wishes."

Everyone except Sheila cracked up, and before they could officially command the Silver Veil, the temperature in the room piqued, although no one really noticed, and from the ceiling, Shadow Demon filtered through, unseen by the Young Ones below.

At first he did not think what he saw was possible.

These Young Ones, these _brats_, had in their possession the _Silver Veil_! Only legend told the story of a veil that would transport the user to wherever he or she desired. It had been something Venger had sought for many, many years, so how had the Dungeon Master known?

But what bothered Shadow Demon the most…why did the Young Ones _need_ the Silver Veil? He hesitated to think of the answer to that question.

Below him, the group of companions quieted and the Ranger told the Veil to take them to the Pool of Reflections. Venger would not be pleased to see the pupils together and the Magician wearing his hat once again. And more, the Silver Veil of legend.

As the Young Ones disappeared in the silvery-liquid light, he took flight as well, hoping that he would make it to Venger in time to warn his master of what he would soon face, and thankfully, nothing delayed Shadow Demon's rapid advance. Still, he was too late for the instantaneous travel the Silver Veil provided for the Young Ones.

When the servant arrived, Venger was flying his Nightmare, wreaking almighty havoc on the Autumn Forest, blasting charred pits out of the colorful landscape.

"I WILL GET YOU CAVALIER! I SWEAR TO IT!" It seemed Eric had found a special place in Venger's heart for a particularly brutal death.

Five minutes prior, the Young Ones had arrived with a hidden glimmer of light.

Luckily for them, they had arrived in the absolute perfect place to turn the tide of battle. The Elgatos and fuzzles had taken refuge in some caverns that pocketed the mountains, which stilted up from Autumn Forest to touch the sky. The fact that Venger was still pitting the forest was more of an indication of frustration rather than battle strategy, after discovering that four Elgatos and a gaggle of fuzzles were more than enough for a platoon of disobedient, dull foot soldiers.

The Orcs were making their careful way up the side of the mountain, attempting to duck and dodge accurately thrown rocks and finding themselves sinking and sliding in the loose silt. The Young Ones were dropped behind the enemy line, and what's more, they were camouflaged by the trees.

Hank surveyed the situation and then turned to the others. Very quickly he outlined a plan, received curt nods from each of them, and wished them good luck. They would need it.

Venger had occupied himself at some other part of the forest and had obviously overlooked their presence or else they would be currently running from hellfire; therefore, the Orcs would be easy to divide and conquer, or so Hank hoped. A flapping red cloak indicated the Eric and the others were prepared on their end. _Okay, time to shine._

Hank separated from the forest line, several energy arrows strung already, and fired. The arrows encircled and trapped several of the Orcs at once and had the desired effect of turning about half of the Orcs around to face this new threat. The other half of the platoon continued climbing, using all fours for traction on the loose gravel. Rocks continued to rain down, but the Orcs noticed stones and larger-sized rocks _roll_ past them. A rumbling occurred, and before most of them registered what was happening, several enormous boulders came crashing into them, knocking them off the mountain effectively. Diana, Bobby, and Uni heroically stood higher up the mountain side, and in front of them, the rutted and freshly overturned soil indicated their participation in the attack.

The part of the Orc platoon that had turned and moved on Hank was not prepared for the sudden onslaught of energy arrows and Cavalier. Eric, to Hank's stunned surprise, charged the line, and took out four of the bad guys before Hank jerked himself to attention and fired several arrows to help. Hank had never considered Eric much of a fighter, much less a _proactive_ fighter, but his eyes did not deceive him. The red cape fluttered behind the tall youth as he punched, slammed, tripped, shoved, and defeated. Presto, from beside Hank, let a low gasp.

"Whoa," he said, clearly in admiration of his oldest friend. He was in the middle of trying to conjure up some rope to take care of the four or five other Orcs, and after a moment of rhyming and twiddling, produced exactly that. Sheila, hand still on her hood, appeared beside him, took the rope, and disappeared once again. The rest of the Orcs climbing up the side of the mountain were making incredible headway, having set their sights on the Young Ones further up, who were posed and ready for some action. It was too bad that invisible rope tripped the Orcs up and sent them slip-sliding backwards, and after which they were effectively tied up.

All in all, the battle took less than five minutes, tops, and had been probably the most seamless execution of battle strategy in the history of the Young Ones in the Realm. The Elgatos and fuzzles emerged from the caverns. Their awe was clear.

"Eric-el, Diana-el, we are pleased to see you alive," Ra'Veath said, hugging the young female to whom he'd become attached. Sh'Gyra pumped Eric's arm in greeting.

"You truly are an incredible fighter," he praised, sharp white teeth flashing in a rueful smile.

"Naw," Eric said dismissively, pink to his ears.

By the time the introductions were made, Shadow Demon had alerted Venger. Sharply he wheeled his demon horse to dive, half startled that he had not noticed the defeat of his soldiers before Shadow Demon's message, half in anticipation of fighting them as a group once again, and separating that infuriating Cavalier from the herd.

But Venger froze, mouth half-open with another threat, arm poised to throw deadly energy to the ground. A shimmer of silver had caught his acute attention, and it was a dawning realization that the Young Ones possessed the Silver Veil. He looked to Shadow Demon for confirmation and the semi-substantial being nodded in affirmation.

When they noticed Venger's attention, the Young Ones scattered, predictably, in teams of two, the Elgatos and fuzzles joining them as well, however unimportant they were to Venger's notice now. The Cavalier and the Acrobat. The Barbarian and the unicorn. The Magician and the Ranger. The Thief had vanished beneath her hood.

But Venger's eyes were fixed on the Silver Veil that the Magician had draped over his shoulder to keep out of the way.

"This is impossible," he uttered in complete disbelief. Venger! Disbelieving! Hank heard the intonation even though the archmage was hovering at a hundred feet in the air on an unholy beast.

Then finally unfreezing, Venger lowered his arm. The Nightmare descended to the ground. Hank followed him cautiously with an arrow notched, and Presto had his hat open, fingers ready to twiddle if needed. Venger merely landed his mount, and climbed off the saddle. Hank had never seen Venger look so incredulous or in awe before.

"Is that…is that the…?" Venger could not finish his question. He knew it to be true, but it was still so surreal. The Silver Veil. Here. It had only been a legend told by the earliest generations down. It didn't exist. There had been no trace of its existence. But why now?

Hank lowered his arrow. Something strange had come over Venger, and Hank no longer felt evil flow off his enemy in waves. Rather than death intent, Venger only had astonishment and curiosity. This threw Hank for a loop.

"Silver Veil," Hank provided, glancing to the side and seeing Eric and Diana circling around behind Venger. Two of the initial Elgatos had gone with them, two others stayed with Presto and Hank to protect, seemingly, the Silver Veil.

"That does not exist," Venger said, pointing to the silver cloth sparkling sublimely over Presto's magician green.

"It does," confirmed the Ranger and a second glance found Bobby and Uni flanking Venger. The archmage did not seem to notice he was surrounded by Young Ones.

"How did you come by it?" he asked, sounding genuine.

"That is not of your concern," answered a gentle voice.

"Dungeon Master!" Presto said and received a sage smile from the small, white-haired mage.

"Indeed," Dungeon Master replied, stepping to Presto's side. "Hand me the Silver Veil, Young One."

"Do not, Magician," Venger warned, shuffling forward, galvanized into action, his mouth suddenly dry and cold heart beating painfully against his chest from a realization he wish he hadn't have had. All weapons shifted subtly in Venger's direction. "Not everything is as it seems."

"Oh, yeah, right, Horn-head, like you have any right to say _that_ to _us_!" This from Eric who could not keep his mouth shut. Venger curled his lip at the impudence expressed by the Cavalier, but did not turn away from Dungeon Master, the Ranger, the Magician and the two Elgatos.

"I know have done many things against you, but I would not say anything otherwise unless it was imperative to _all_ of us. Do not relinquish the Silver Veil," Venger said again. A low chuckle from Dungeon Master caught everyone's attention.

"It is useless, Venger. They do not trust you as they do me. Presto," Dungeon Master said quietly. "The Silver Veil, please. Venger must not possess it."

Presto drew his hand up and stroked the cool material. Confusion had him glancing at his friends and between Venger and Dungeon Master.

"Stop!" A new voice jolted everyone from the thick intensity. Shadow Demon detached from his perch in the shadow of a tree. "Tell them the truth, Master!"

All the Young Ones shared astonished glances and came forward.

"Truth?" Hank asked, lowering his bow and arrow completely. He caught Eric's deep scowl, and when he gave him a questioning look, Eric shrugged his shoulders. Something weird was going on, that was definite. "What do you mean?"

**A/N: **Hank has it right. Truth? What truth? Muwhahahaha! Anyway, I felt like I glazed over a lot of conversation in order to get to the good stuff, so please don't punish me too much for that, there will be a _lot_ of conversation in the next chapter. Until next time!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Well, kids, thanks for waiting. This chapter is another _long_ one, and I appreciate all your criticism and reviews up to this point! Thanks for you encouragement. Please enjoy:

**The Silver Veil**

**XVI.**

Venger wanted to shift uncomfortably under the heat of so many stares, but refrained magnificently. Shadow Demon drifted to float next to him, as Dungeon Master drew back a few steps and folded his hands into his robe.

"Yes, Venger. What _is_ the truth?" he echoed, and his voice was as gentle as usual. Only Venger could detect the irony that underlined his words. The Young Ones' faces were all expressions of astonishment and confusion.

"That is not for me to tell," Venger replied slowly, keeping his eyes on his one-time father. His mouth moved stiffly around the words. Shadow Demon hissed softly, displeased with Venger's response, and Venger favored the demon with a snarl.

"Can we skip to the explaining?" the Cavalier asked sharply, impatiently. The female Acrobat smacked his shoulder and said something under her breath, but the Cavalier shook his head and defended himself by saying, "They're stalling."

"Cavalier. If you wish for your head to remain on your shoulders, you will shut up," Venger threatened, turning to glare at the dark-haired youth. The Cavalier only straightened his shoulders and scowled, and Venger had seen that ironclad will before. It had been better when the Cavalier was terrified of him.

"Come here and try, fangs," the Cavalier challenged recklessly, shoving the Acrobat behind him and his shield, but her hand snapped out to jerk his arm. Venger considered silencing the Cavalier, but he didn't. He wanted to start talking, but he didn't. The silence grew deafening, as nobody wanted to do anything until someone else did something. Venger watched the Dungeon Master's eyes, waiting for the older, shorter mage to make a move. His head inclined marginally as he waited for Venger to explain. Why did he wait?

"The Realm," Venger started with a sigh that was unlike him in every way, "has rules to follow. Always there must be those who are good and those who are evil. The positions of good power and evil power are roles to be filled. Just as the Dungeon Master's pupils are roles to be filled. We," Venger gestured to Dungeon Master and himself, "are not originally from here."

"So what're you saying?" asked the Barbarian suspiciously, one hand resting on his club, the other resting on Uni's head.

"We're like actors in a play? Here to fill a job opening?" the Cavalier answered uncertainly, and he was very pale as he looked Venger full in the face. Venger saw much of himself as he'd once been in the Cavalier's eyes and mouth as he nodded confirmation to the Cavalier's words.

"But why?" the Ranger asked, glancing between Dungeon Master and Venger. Venger lifted his brow at the hurt in the loaded question.

"The Realm was created as a prison, a tool to keep _him_ in line," Venger said vehemently, pointing to Dungeon Master, who only had that arrogantly wise smile on his face, the one that Venger hated. "It just so happens that my sister and I are powerful enough to keep the scales from tipping, thus preventing him from leaving this world on his own accord. However, in the rules, Dungeon Master is allowed the recruitment of six pupils with special weapons. Only when these pupils leave the world, he, too, is allowed to leave. The Silver Veil," he paused to gesture to it, "nullifies the use of the pupils for escape."

"This doesn't make any sense," the Magician said finally, lifting a hand to adjust his glasses. His face had taken on a seriousness rivaled by law students taking the Bar. "Prison is for people who are evil. Dungeon Master is _not_ evil. Isn't the prison for _you_?"

Dungeon Master chuckled a second time, and again, everyone turned their eyes to the oldest of them all.

"Venger is quite right. I'm imprisoned here, filling a role until I can escape, much as you are," he said.

"Then that would mean that you're not…really…good?" the Acrobat asked breathlessly, the realization having taken the air from her lungs. Venger knew how she felt, as he was having a hard time breathing as well, and it had nothing to do with Dungeon Master's proximity.

It was because Dungeon Master's smile changed from wise to menacing, and the air vibrated with energy so much so that Venger's teeth rattled in his head. Mad cackling speared over the sharp buzzing of the atmosphere. None of the Young Ones moved an inch. Complete betrayal rooted them to the spot, just as terrified disbelief etched their young features.

"It's time to tip the balance in my favor." The words were barely heard over the noise that seemed to permeate from everywhere. From the sky a huge bolt of dark lightening jacked down the horizon, aimed to disintegrate Venger where he stood. Venger was unprepared for the sudden raw power his father summoned, and the shielding bubble he created would not deflect or absorb even half the power charging down on him. He forgot about Shadow Demon who was faithfully beside him.

"Mast..!"

An explosion ripped over the plains. Everyone was tossed aside like playthings, thankfully not close enough to the collision of power to sustain any serious injuries. Where Venger and Shadow Demon had been was an enormous crack in the ground, yawning like the earth had suddenly opened a jagged mouth. Neither of the two were anywhere in sight. Of course, no one was looking.

Hank blinked, staring at the black, roiling sky, ears ringing from the tremendous disharmony, and wondering what the hell was happening that made him feel so much like throwing up.

_Oh, that's right._ _Dungeon Master attacked us._

_He's the bad guy._

_He's the bad guy?_

_Why?_

Even though the fact of the matter had just presented itself, Hank couldn't wrap his mind around it. It was too big, too _hurtful_. He shifted his head, found Presto sprawled a few feet away, spread eagle. Hank watched, like a person outside his own body, as Dungeon Master glided to Presto, eyes fixed greedily on the Silver Veil. The greed looked so ugly on Dungeon Master's face he resembled a toad.

_I don't know what to do._ The admission punched Hank in the stomach.

Dungeon Master was reaching down for the Veil, short arms not really extending that far to the ground, when one of the Elgatos attacked, leaping from a crouch and a sliver glint of metal in his hand-claw. Casually, as if he dealt with humanlike cat creatures everyday, Dungeon Master put his hand up, palm out, and released a burst of energy. The brave Elgato skidded back, plowing the ground, and remained motionless when his body came to a rest many feet away.

_How do I fight against _him_?_

Hank tried moving, only managed to lift an arm half-heartedly when pain knifed from his joints.

Again Dungeon Master reached down, but the Veil disappeared. Face contorted, Dungeon Master lifted his arms, bright energy swirling between his hands.

"Don't believe you can get away from me, Thief," Dungeon Master said, for all the world sounding like he was having a pleasant conversation. The energy broadened, flattened, and spun out of the slender fingers to swoosh over the shortened, dry grass like a lethal wind.

A scream shattered the soft whoosh of air.

This time, Hank lifted his head enough to see Sheila materialize and collapse on the ground. She had silver in her hands.

"Sheila!" _I have to fight. Get up. Get up, dammit!_

Achy and sick, Hank worked to his hands and knees, and brought up his bow with an arrow aimed at Dungeon Master's small back. The miniature mage had taken to the air and was flying lazily to Sheila's crumpled body.

_Shoot. Shoot him. SHOOT HIM!_

Even though Hank had Dungeon Master targeted, it went against the grain to shoot a man who'd saved them, guided them, _encouraged_ them to do the _right_ thing.

_But what was right?_

Even after all that reasoning, Hank hesitated. Dungeon Master was nearly to Sheila, robes fluttering around short legs like some odd, bright bird against the darkened sky.

"Hank!" Bobby called pleadingly, jerking Hank's focus to him. Uni was limp in his small arms, and tears threatened to fall.

_Dungeon Master has betrayed us. He's hurt us. I can't let him get away with this. I have to do what's right for us._

Hank took a steadying breath and released the arrow to hit Dungeon Master square between the shoulders, knocking the old man from the air. The small thud when the mage hit the ground turned Hank's stomach.

He felt presences surround him. The three remaining Elgatos, Eric, Diana, and Bobby were all able-bodied. Presto and Sheila were out cold, Venger and Shadow Demon were nowhere to be found.

"Hank," Eric said from beside him, armor dull and dirty in the dim light, "we can't beat him." He was merely stating a fact casually, like ordering a burger and fries.

"I know," Hank replied grimly, accepting Eric's outreached hand. He was lifted easily to his feet, and Hank found himself looking up at Eric. Had Eric been taller than him a few days ago?

"We're going to try," Diana interjected, coming from behind Eric. She, too, was stating a fact. Her one hand was loose around her javelin. She stood with the other hand on her hip, gazing at the stirring robed man in the middle of the field near her best friend.

"He's dead meat," gritted Bobby as he laid Uni next to Presto lovingly. Hank examined his little group. Dirt streaked their faces, their bodies were sore, their eyes were sad, and they were all out of breath.

"Easy, kiddo," Eric mollified, settling a hand on Bobby's shoulder. The young Barbarian pouted, but let the older teen's hand remain where it was.

"We will help," said one of the Elgatos, who had remained steadfast and silent throughout.

"Thank you, Ra'Veath," Diana whispered, and Eric and Hank nodded their thanks as well.

"What're we gonna do?" Bobby asked from Eric's side. A moment's pause rested heavily on them.

"We know he wants the Silver Veil. Our object should be to prevent Dungeon Master from getting the Veil, then using it ourselves to get home," answered Eric, wiping his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. "We can drop the Elgatos off first."

"How?" Hank asked, humbly accepting the subtle shift in authority and running his hand along the curves of his bow. Presto and Sheila were unconscious, and so was one of the Elgatos. Dungeon Master still had not gotten up, but he would soon, maybe in the next minute or so. How were they going to get everyone together to use the Veil at once?

"We need a distraction, something to keep Dungeon Master busy," said Diana thoughtfully. There was a moment of silence as everyone pondered her comment. Eric snapped his fingers, bringing everyone to attention.

"I got it! Hank, you and Bobby and Diana can distract Dungeon Master. Me and the Elgatos can move the others to one area. It would be a good idea to use the Silver Veil as a way to keep Dungeon Master busy," Eric replied, using his fingers to illustrate each person. "Dungeon-drip'll be too focused on the Silver Veil to notice what _we're_ doing with everyone else."

"Hey, that's a great idea!" said the Barbarian excitedly, smacking his club a little _too_ enthusiastically in his hands.

"When we've got everyone in one spot, I'll wave my cape. We better get going," Eric continued, nodding toward Dungeon Master, who was climbing to his small feet unsteadily.

Hank took no other urging. He fired another arrow, this one intended to bind Dungeon Master while everyone charged to protect Sheila and the Silver Veil. Diana, the fastest human runner of them all, reached Sheila and consequently the Veil, first. In a swirl of the glittering cloth, she vanished and appeared further out in the plain, but still within sight.

"HEY, YOUR ROYAL SHORTNESS!" she called, flapping the Silver Veil to catch his attention.

Hank hesitated long enough to watch Bobby sprint to the forest and for Dungeon Master to shred the bindings before Hank ran in the opposite direction, putting some distance between him and the others.

As they thought, Dungeon Master went after the Silver Veil. He shot bursts of energy at the Acrobat, but before they connected, she used the Silver Veil to transport next to Bobby, who was nearly at the forest line separating the Autumn Forest from the plains. Dungeon Master glanced about for his prey.

"WE'RE OVER HERE, DUNGEON-DRIP!"

"CATCH US IF YOU CAN!" Their taunts drew the intended reaction. After handing Bobby the Veil, Diana stepped in front of Bobby, as Dungeon Master flew towards them, his speed incredible.

"DIANA, WATCH OUT!" To delay and slow him, Hank fired dozens of arrows, the light bursting on Dungeon Master one after another, but having little effect as Dungeon Master had a shield around himself. Diana attempted to trip him up with her javelin, but Dungeon Master blasted her into the forest, and Hank realized that Dungeon Master was taking them seriously now. Dungeon Master was nearly on Bobby before the youngster used the cloak to transport to Hank.

"I'm gonna go check on Diana," Bobby said breathlessly, and as Dungeon Master set foot on land, Bobby hammered his club to the ground, sending shockwaves of earth and noise crashing toward the mage. It delayed him minimally; Dungeon Master only had to elevate over the ruined land and fly at Bobby and Hank.

Bobby's legs were a blur over the crumbled and broken ground as he charged Dungeon Master. Hank assisted with arrows, but Dungeon Master was too powerful, and Hank's arrows had as little effect as flies buzzing around the mage's head. Dungeon Master paused, raising a tornado of power out the palm of his hand, and was preparing to release the power, when a javelin came whipping out of the forest, knocking Dungeon Master solidly out of the air.

A red fluttering caught Hank's eye. _The signal!_

Eric and the Elgatos had collected everyone. Hank saw that Diana and Bobby would not be able to run to Eric and the others without crossing open ground, and possibly being attacked by Dungeon Master. Thinking quickly, he looked to the cloth gripped tightly in his fist.

"Take me to Bobby," Hank ordered the Silver Veil, and almost before he knew it he was standing beside the young boy.

Afterwards, Hank realized he'd made a tactical error. Bobby had been closest to Dungeon Master, and the mage recovered faster than Hank anticipated.

"Take me to…AUGH!" Hank was interrupted by a sharp agony that shot from his shoulder to his brain. He stumbled back, staring down at the golden arrow that was protruding from his shoulder. Blood seeped out of the wound, darkening his green tunic. He dropped to his knees, putting a hand around the shaft of the arrow as his bow and the Veil slipped to the ground.

"Hank? Hank, are you okay?" Bobby's freckles stood out on his pale face as he stood over Hank. Barely comprehending Bobby's concern through the haze of pain, Hank nodded and looked over Bobby's shoulder to Dungeon Master, who dissipated a bow and was muttering, summoning something else. Bobby turned to see where Hank was staring and zeroed in on Dungeon Master, realizing that the mage was standing on the ground.

"No you don't," he said, slamming his club down again powerfully. The earth rose up like a tsunami and threatened to envelope Dungeon Master completely, only Dungeon Master planted his hands on the dry earth. The rumbling from Bobby's strike tripled, and they watched in stupid amazement as the tide of soil disappeared into a gorge, the smell of wet earth pungent in the air.

"How'd he…?" Bobby's question trailed off.

Dungeon Master wasn't finished yet, not by a long shot. More of the dark lightening zapped around them, and when the energy hit the ground, it formed creatures that were all black light and buzzing with energy.

"You think that's gonna stop me?!" Bobby cried, charging.

FLASH_BANG!_

Bobby's club went one way, his body another, skidding several feet away from Hank, fur smoking slightly. The Ranger groped for his bow, but winced as pain pierced his nerves and rang sirens in his ears. Besides that, the arrow was lodged in his right shoulder. He'd have to shoot left-handed, if he could even lift the bow, and no matter how gently he shifted, the pain always stopped him cold.

Past the lightening creatures, Diana sprinted and dodged several attacks. She was able to take down two with her javelin, yet even as she did, one of the creatures shrank, becoming some sort of flickering chain, and before Diana could manage an astonished 'huh?', it had slithered around and shocked her into unconsciousness.

A rustle beside him turned Hank's glazed attention to the Silver Veil.

"It's me." _Sheila._ He very nearly passed out from relief that she was conscious and ambulatory.

"Are you hurt?" Hank felt Sheila's arms wrap around his neck, her lips settling on his briefly, and it was weird that he couldn't see what he felt.

"That's a silly question," she replied. "Give me the Silver Veil."

He relinquished it without question and hoped she knew what she was doing. Shouting brought his dazed concentration back to the field of battle.

_Eric? What's he _doing_?_

The Cavalier deflected blows left and right, the Elgatos fighting toe to toe behind him. But Hank had to press a hand to his head; he was dizzy, the world spinning him around like a merry-go-round. Darkness clouded his vision.

From the corner of his eye, Eric saw Hank tumble back. It had pissed him off royally when Dungeon Master summoned a bow and shot that golden arrow at Hank, effectively disabling the Ranger. About the time that Diana flung her javelin at Dungeon Master, Sheila stirred, and Eric filled her in on the situation. When Hank had been hit, she'd used the cloak to turn invisible. He figured he knew what she was going to do.

Placing more emphasis on his concentration, Eric had at last reached the limp Acrobat. Bobby was not where he'd fallen; Eric assumed Sheila had used the Veil to transport him to safety. A flash had him ducking behind his shield, holding it up. The energy bounced off, and in a freak coincidence, jolted Sheila straight in the chest when she reappeared with the Silver Veil. The hood fell off her copper hair, and she crumpled like a sheet, out for good.

The attacks on Eric and the Elgatos doubled, and the Cavalier was forced to use the shield to protect everyone and ignore the Silver Veil, as the creatures surrounded them, pummeling them with dangerous energy. Dungeon Master floated over to Sheila and dragged the Silver Veil up with him, the magical cloak flowing miles of liquid cloth. He took a moment to gloat with some laughter that Eric could barely hear over the bolts thrown at him and those he was protecting.

A crack resonated through the air. The creatures evaporated as Dungeon Master crashed to the ground, blooming up a trail of dust as he skidded over the plain. A pool of silver shone sedately over the brown grass.

"You will not leave." The words were spoken with force and promise, and Eric didn't recognize the voice. So he looked to the source, and when he found him, Eric squinted to make sure he was seeing right. It was Venger, but it _wasn't_ Venger. The robes were the same, only the strange turban was gone, as well as the vampire fangs and the horn. Long, black hair flipped around his face and shoulders as Venger rose slowly into the air, almost as if he was filled with helium, his black wings spread out dauntingly. Venger looked…_human_.

"Where have you _been?_" Eric shouted in agitation, the irony of that comment unmissed by the Cavalier. He received a death glare from Venger, but the potency was diminished because of Venger's new look.

"I _will_," intoned Dungeon Master, drawing himself up to his full three-foot height. Both of the mages' robes were torn and filthy from the fighting as they stood facing each other, the Silver Veil marking the very center between the two.

Silence settled on the plain.

Each of the mages were staring the other down.

Eric felt he could cut the tension with a knife, considered whistling that theme at the beginning of Clint Eastwood westerns.

A light breeze ruffled their respective robes.

"HAH!" The sound escaped Dungeon Master's mouth, and darkness, utter and thick, covered the plain. Eric couldn't even see the light from his shield. Over his pounding heart, he heard tussling, low murmuring, the hum of energy, and several thuds, but nothing penetrated the ultimate dark that blinded Eric.

"I WILL GET YOU, OLD MAN!"

"YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN AS POWERFUL AS I!"

Low thunder rumbled, vibrating the air. The vertigo had Eric off balance and he fell back, landing on some furry bodies that hissed and spat disagreeably.

Venger roared or groaned, Eric wasn't sure, and Dungeon Master's voice, so strangely dark, chilled Eric to the bone when it rang out in the thick black.

"_The Circle of Eight will pay dearly for banishing me! To the city of Greyhawk!"_

**A/N:** One last chapter to tie things up should do it. I'm actually a little sad this story is coming to a close. Anyway, please drop a line! Thanks!


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **So here we are, kids, at the end of the story. Thanks to all those who were kind enough to wait patiently for my lazy butt to type this last chapter, and to everyone who dropped a line of encouragement or criticism. You guys rock. Seriously.

**The Silver Veil**

**XVII.**

The darkness blinked, and this time sunlight blinded the Cavalier. He lifted a hand to shade his abused eyes as he looked around.

"Eric-el." Ra'Veath set a complacent hand on Eric's shoulder, and Eric lowered the shield. The battle was over. He didn't know how he felt about being on the losing side.

"We should fan out and check the others," said Eric quietly. Movement would keep his torrent of emotions at bay for now.

Hank, Diana, and Sheila were in varying stages of consciousness. Presto groaned, rubbing his head as he remained sprawled, with Uni curled into a tight ball at his side. Bobby and Shadow Demon were gone or out of sight.

Venger was a collapsed puddle of robes and bat wings. Several scorch marks marred his usually impeccable dress, and his face was smudged with ash.

Eric stood over the bane of their existence, distaste curling his lip, hating to help this _mage_. He settled for toeing Venger's shoulder.

"Hey, wake up." Venger didn't move, and Eric shifted to prod him harder, savoring a small victory over their nemesis.

"YIKES!" Eric shrieked when Venger caught his foot with one hand.

"I wouldn't recommend that, Cavalier," Venger commented, opening his eyes to the stunned youth. Eric stumbled back several steps as Venger sat up, examining his hands and touching his hair and face. The feeling of being near-human…it was strange after so many hundreds of years.

Venger surveyed the situation coldly. He was weakened, the Young Ones were in complete disarray, and Dungeon Master had escaped the Realm to Greyhawk. The Circle of Eight would not be pleased with this occurrence. But the Silver Veil had been a _legend_! The fact that it existed and Dungeon Master found it rankled in Venger's mind.

"Cavalier," Venger said, deciding it was time to take initiative. He continued when he felt the youth's presence draw up behind him. "Take a small party, gather wood for a fire. Afterwards, go hunting for sustenance. When we are fed and rested, we will discuss our next steps." To his surprise, the Cavalier didn't complain, didn't have any remark, just went and collected together a few other companions and left toward the forest.

The archmage climbed to his feet and swept over to the Ranger. The blond was slick with perspiration, and his eyes were scrunched with pain. The arrow was lodged in his shoulder, the gold shining like a treasure. _First things first_. He reached a steady hand out to aid the wounded teenager.

About the time Venger slipped the arrow out of Hank's shoulder, the Magician stirred and started violently when his eyes fell on Venger, so near that his black hem was overlapped with the pool of Presto's green robe. Presto thought he still might be dreaming, but realized he wasn't when the archmage addressed him coolly.

"Magician, hand me your hat." Presto hesitated, unsure and emotionally numb, but since Venger wasn't throwing around bolts of energy, he did as he was told, scrambling for the Hat then giving it willingly to Venger.

"Is he…gonna be okay?" he inquired, pushing his cracked glasses up his nose. He hovered anxiously, using this rare moment to examine Venger and to carefully process information. But his mind seemed contented to buzz drearily like a bee, alighting every now and again on a random thought.

"Yes. He just needs rest and medicine," Venger answered patiently and took the Hat from Presto's hand. The archmage invoked the magic, and the Hat produced a clear vial of liquid, which was promptly uncorked and poured into Hank's mouth.

"Where's Eric and Bobby?" Far as Presto could see, they were the only two, besides the weird cat-creatures, that were missing. As Venger replied, Presto knelt over Diana, who was coming around.

"If you mean the Cavalier, I sent him for firewood and food. I do not know where the Barbarian is." Venger settled Hank down and moved to Diana. He used the Hat again, and withdrew a mug of steamy liquid and handed it to Presto. "When the Acrobat wakens fully, have her drink this." The Magician fell silent to assist the Acrobat.

Methodically Venger checked each of the others, even the unicorn, and discovered no worse injuries than the Ranger's shoulder. By this time, the Cavalier and the Elgatos had returned and were fixing up the fire and some sort of large game that the Elgatos no doubt helped kill.

A heavy subdued pall had fallen over the members of the group. No one had anything to say. The Cavalier seemed to be the only one not rocked to the core by the prior events. He made himself useful, attending especially to the Acrobat. The Thief had not said a word to anyone, and the Ranger was sleeping. The Magician stroked the unicorn, comforting the creature as best as he could in the Barbarian's absence.

"So, Venger. Where's your pal Shadow Demon?" the Cavalier asked, looking through the flames boldly at him. Such insolence. If he wasn't so weak, he'd teach the whelp a lesson. As it was…

"Shadow Demon is no more. He absorbed much of Dungeon Master's attack for me and evaporated in the blast," Venger responded. He rested his arms on his knees, and the shift frightened the copper-headed Thief into squirming uncomfortably.

"And Bobby?"

"Bobby's gone," Sheila interrupted. The firelight danced off her hair and her glazed eyes.

"What do you mean?" Diana asked cautiously as she tightened her grip on Eric's arm. She thought Eric was the only one keeping them together at this point emotionally--she knew she was relying heavily on him. And who knew how Hank would be after he came around. Tears flooded out of Sheila's eyes.

"I…took him home. I used the Silver Veil," clarified the Thief quietly. More heavy silence occurred.

"I see," Eric murmured and decided not to press her because she would get more upset and that was the _last_ thing anyone needed at this point. He went silent, frowning at the fire, but again lifted his gaze to Venger. "What's the Circle of Eight?"

"It is an organization of mages that work for the balance of power on a world called Oerth. Dungeon Master had increased his strength through extreme measures, and so the Circle of Eight banished him to keep the power balanced."

"Oerth, huh?" the Cavalier commented, and he seemed to think on something. "Now that Dungeon Master has left, what'll happen to us?"

"If you still seek a portal home, it is no longer possible from this world. I do not wish to get into tedious technicalities," Venger said when it looked like the Cavalier was going to ask another question, "but know that a portal to Earth can be found on Oerth."

Eric nodded, the pieces falling together neatly and showing him the whole picture. He and the others would have to travel to Oerth to find a portal home. But if they did that, they would be against Dungeon Master, who would inevitably foil their attempts much like Venger did for them in the Realm.

It was then Eric discovered that he didn't even really care what Dungeon Master did in the past to deserve banishment, didn't care what they'd have to do to defeat him. As always, their roles would remain the same: the Young Ones would fight against evil in an attempt to get home. It would just be a different place, and this time, it would be for vengeance against betrayal. Nothing else mattered.

"I can't speak for my friends. But if you're planning on going to Oerth, I'm going with you. I've gotta bone to pick with ole Dungeon-drip," Eric said. The others heard the flint and steel in Eric's voice, knew he was speaking because what Dungeon Master did was unforgiveable.

"Yeah," Presto agreed, and his eyes had turned to hard amber with Eric's words. Uni bleated her agreement beside him.

"Me, too," Diana murmured. Although she was feeling washed with emotion and hurt, Eric was right. She would not stand by and let someone she had trusted get away with stabbing her or her friends in the back. Her eyes rested on Sheila, wrapped in her purple cloak, expressionless against the thick emotion Diana knew she must be feeling. "Sheila?"

"I…don't know," she mumbled, and no one harassed her because they all understood that she was broken up inside for taking her brother home.

"I never said I was going," Venger pointed out, quite piqued that Eric already made the decision without consultation.

"C'mon, Venger. We're not that stupid. Admit it. Right now…you need _us_ to save _your_ batwings from the Circle of Eight," the Cavalier stated, his finger gesturing to the archmage. Venger's lip curled because what Eric said was the truth. "So what do we do to get to Oerth?"

Venger breathed the cooling air and lifted his eyes to the sky spread with stars endlessly over their heads. Never had he thought he'd be teamed with the Dungeon Master's witless pupils. Never had he thought he'd discover they weren't as witless as he assumed.

This path, if they should choose to take it, would be dangerous, possibly lethal, and dirty. There would be no room for cowardice, no room for weakness. It would take careful preparation, more time than was possible to take.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single footstep, Venger knew. His eyes settled on the Young Ones surrounding the fire, the ones who had shown courage and diligence and the propensity to win against the odds. The odds heavily favored his former father and master.

But odds had never stopped Venger before, and he didn't think the odds mattered to these Young Ones anymore. _Only one thing left to do_, he mused.

Venger stepped.

"We must first seek the Hall of the Young Ones. There we will find the…" Deep into the night, the archmage described the future task to the willing and unwilling listeners alike, a single footstep of an impossibly long journey with no guarantee of success.

**End**

**A/N: **_sniff, sniff…_Do I smell a sequel? LOL. I'm sorry, I didn't want to be so mean, but I do have plans for a sequel to take place in Greyhawk. And I know some of you might have a problem that Sheila took Bobby home, but logically, what do you think she would have done? Besides, he's not written out completely. Anyway, thanks again for reading, and please let me know what you think of the story overall!


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